


Blood Bag

by FangirlWolfie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bottom Draco, Drarry, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Powerful Harry, Top Harry, Top Harry Potter, Vampire Harry, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 123,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4051480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlWolfie/pseuds/FangirlWolfie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the “Magical Creature Rights”- debate ends badly the rebellion of magical creatures ends up occupying Hogwarts as a last resort. Harry Potter (rebellion leader and vampire) meets Draco Malfoy (son of an opponent to creature rights) and passion ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fangs of Fear

**Author's Note:**

> AN/ Hi!
> 
> Before you read this story it might be some thing you want to know:
> 
> First! This is AU, we're still in the "magical-universe" but it is very different from the books.
> 
> Second! I will probably make mistakes when it comes to grammar seeing as English isn't my mother language.
> 
> Third! Enjoy your read;)

Draco strolled down the hall of teeming students. He’d heard the news like everybody else about what had happened, or rather was in fact happening right now. 

The MCE rebellion had taken over the bloody school. 

Draco had a firm opinion on the “Magical-Creature-Equality” rebellion, or the MCE as it was called. And that opinion could be summarised with the word “bonkers”, “madness” or “stupid”. His father was, as many others in the Wizengamot, against the whole act and with a sound reason as well. Magical creatures were not meant to be treated equal to wizards, they were after all creatures, as their name inclined, clearly below the wits of man and could be dangerous. They needed to be contained and supervised if not to be posed as a hazard to the magical society. 

Draco agreed to his hearts content with his father’s stand as he had been attacked by a Hippogriff in his third grade. Their slightly crazy “Care of Magical Creatures”-teacher couldn’t control it, which had resolved in an injury on Draco’s part. The attack had been more of a shock than actual hurt but even though Draco decided not to press charges he’d become more aware of the untamed beasts that lived among them. 

Maybe it was the fact that you never really knew what would happen when you approached a creature, different from you. But you could always be sure that if you didn’t follow the unwritten rules of this precise creature, you might get hurt. Maybe it was the suspense rather than the actual attack (that had only happened once) that made Draco tremble every time he found himself face to face with a creature with too sharp claws and too pointy teeths. 

So when the rebellion had started, Draco had fully supported his father against the MCE. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what would happen if he suddenly were expected to face a creature on equal conditions, with his luck he’d probably become breakfast. So when the rebellion leader of the Resistance managed to get on the minister’s good side Draco had prayed for something to go wrong, something to make the minister shut the window that had been opened between the two worlds. 

Maybe faith had heard his wishes? 

A few weeks after the debate of “Creature rights” had begun, the inventible happened. Or according to Draco it had been inventible because how could you not see it coming?! A creature had attacked a wizard in Diagon Ally. And that had been the end of the story. 

Or so he had hoped.

The ministry had withdrawn their hand and a wild hunt had begun as people took it upon themselves to punish the rebellion for betraying the truce. The first real battle between wizards and magical creatures had happened and it was clear who stood as the winner. The MC fucking E. 

And now they were here, at Draco’s bloody school, occupying it. 

So far, it was hot news and Draco doubted that anyone outside of Hogwarts knew what was going on. He kept a searching eye out for his friend Blaise as he managed to press his way down the corridor through the bodily mass that moved in different directions. He had to find his friends and talk things through, make up a strategy of how to survive with werewolves and Merlin-only-knows-what breathing down their necks. 

Draco moved a firstie out of his way with care before heading down towards the Great hall as his head kept spinning. What if this would result in a bloodbath? What if he was singled out because of his father supporting Tom Riddle, the greatest opposition when it came to equality between wizards and beasts. If not for Mr Riddle's protests the MCE-act might have already been signed and declared legit. Draco couldn’t supress a shiver at the thought of living among feral animals with no sense of justice or reason. The only thing that had even made this whole MCE rebellion a possibility was Potter. He was one of the darkest and most dangerous creatures to walk this earth, and the only one who could keep a whole army of magical creatures from killing every wizard in sight. If not for Potter, the resistance wouldn’t even exist, nor would the MCE-act.

Draco mouth felt dry as he remembered the dark-haired boy he’d seen in the newspaper. With green eyes and a scar across his face, making him seem deadly as well as enchanting. Draco shivered as he remembered the small smile Potter’s picture had made at him, showing of teeth that was as sharp as they were deadly. Potter was a vampire. A bloodsucking monster that fed on blood and life, almost like a dementor but worse, so much worse. If Potter had been a normal vampire things would have been easy, almost like a stroll in the park. A normal vampire couldn’t go out during the day, could be killed with Avadra Kedavra or tortured with Crucio. Hell you could even keep a normal vampire away from you with a garlic necklace if you were so inclined. But Potter was another story altogether. 

There was something in this world called an Elder Vampire. That was basically a vampire who had killed the last Elder Vampire and then consumed its blood. Because the world could only have one Elder Vampire at the time whom posed like some sort of royal leader for the whole Vampire population. Tales said that Elder Vampires where impossible to kill and since it was such a long time since the last one was spotted, the stories had become tales and rumours. Everyone had been sure that the only Vampires that existed nowadays were the normal ones that roamed the pubs at night or was spotted the occasional coven that sometimes were found. So when Potter had stepped forward to meet the minister in the daylight with a wide smile that showed off a pair of deadly fangs, the wizard world had stopped in its track to watch the new Elder Vampire. 

It was said that the last one had been seen hundreds of years ago in France and had been a middle age man with blond hair which left no doubts that Potter had taken down the last Elder. That achievement was enough to make people fear the oddly young rebellion leader, as he seemingly had claimed the Elder power, making him appear like a bundle of Avada Kedavras, waiting to be fired. Maybe it was the fear that had made the minister agree to the MCE-act? Nobody knew the exact limitations to an Elder Vampire’s power and imagination was never a good way to measure a threat. Draco if anyone would know that. 

So Potter had appeared with a united army at his back, something never seen before and everything had almost seemed to work out before the accident. 

Draco was still unsure if he should bless the dead wizard for putting a stop to the MCE-act or pitying him for being foolish enough to approach an unpredictable creature. In any case, Draco had thanked Merlin for putting a stop to the MCE negotiations before anything was actually signed. But at the same time, he cursed his luck of now being stuck in an occupied castle full of the very thing he feared and hated. 

“Draco!” 

Said Draco jumped as he heard the holler down the hall from Mr Zabini himself. He quickly changed direction and headed over towards his Slytherin friends with a scowl on his face. 

“Have you heard?” He was quick to ask as he passed the last student between the green tied teens and the rest of the crowd. 

“Yeah”, Blaise answered and glanced in Pansy’s direction. She stood on his other side with a blank face that didn’t quite manage to hide her anxiety. Pansy’s family was also known for their support of Tom Riddle against the MCE-act, making her a prime target for blackmailing. Much as himself, Draco thought with a shudder. 

“What are we going to do about it?” Draco asked while looking around the mass of people to detect possible eavesdropping. For now, everyone seemed content with hurrying towards friends, common rooms or teacher to find reassurance or just information. 

“I don’t now…”, Pansy began with a shaking voice as she dragged a pale hand through her hair. “But we must do something?”, she followed up and met Draco’s grey eyes. He stared back at her with a thoughtful look, hiding his nerves easily with a practiced poker face. 

“What can we do?” Blaise interrupted with a tired sigh. “They have occupied the school. Not even Dumbledore was able to do something.” He scratched his cheek as he continued in a lowered voice. “I’m just not sure if it’s wise to do anything yet.” His eyes locked with Draco who slowly nodded in agreement. Blaise was right; it was best to lay low at the moment. This whole occupation thing was still new and fresh; everyone was on edge right now so it would be better to let the whole thing settle before even considering doing something. 

Pansy did on the other hand not agree with Blaise logic, she usually didn’t to be fair. 

“No I refuse”, she said with hard eyes before sending an accusing glare at Draco for his consent. “Have you all stopped and considered what would happen to us if the freaks finds out about who our fathers supports? They would be torturing us and sending our body parts to our parents!”

“Shhh”, Draco chided Pansy, as she seemed to grow hysterical at the end of her rant. “Dumbledore would never allow that for sure.”

“The old man can’t even keep the damn freaks out of the castle-“

“No”, Draco interrupted Pansy as she sent a cold stare in his direction. “Dumbledore allows them to occupy the school because he cares. He knows that it might be bloodshed if he tries to force them away from the grounds, but if he creates a truce…”

“…Then the MCE would have to keep it in order to stay”, Blaise finished Draco’s sentence with an astonished expression. He seemed to think through what Draco had just said with a faint smile growing on his face. “That’s bloody brilliant”, he said and shook his head in wonder. “When the heck did you grow so smart?”

Draco responded to the compliment with a shrug. “I was placed in Slytherin of a reason.”

“Clearly”, Blaise mumbled with a dry voice as his smile almost broke his face in two. 

“What!” Pansy almost screamed and looked at her two friends who now wore a knowing expression on their faces. “What truce are you two talking about?”

Draco only rolled his eyes but held back the sharp remark that rested on the tip of his tongue. “We’re talking about why there’s still to be screaming and panic even though this castle for the moment is occupied of terrorists, rebellions, whatever…”

Pansy gave Draco a hard look as she nodded for him to go on. 

“Dumbledore is one of the most powerful wizards in the whole world”, Draco continued in a pace that Pansy would follow. “So if he really wanted the MCE out of here there would be much more of a commotion.”

“Like what”, Pansy snuck in and gave the milling hallway a quick glance. Almost as to watch for signs of said commotion. 

“Like dead body commotion.” Draco deadpanned before moving on, ignoring the audible gulp Pansy made. “So to avoid thousands of students dying during this occupation Dumbledore must obviously have come to some sort of truce with the freaks.” 

Pansy gave him a mindful eye before nodding slowly; finally catching up to what Draco and Blaise realized a few moments before. “I see”, was her only response. 

“So”, Blaise asked Draco as the trio started to move along in the endless stream of students. “What do you think of the truce?”

Draco pondered the question for a moment. Reminding himself of the headmaster’s crazy quirks, but also of the love the old man held for the student body and the school. Dumbledore was sure to have made some sappy truce, of that Draco had no doubt. “It’s probably about the safety of the students and the teachers.” 

Blaise nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he have always been soft about that...”

“Right.”

“Sooo…” Blaise said with a prolonged ‘o’. “I guess you guys will be safe from the freaks if they want to hold the truce?”

Draco nodded, but felt an unease settle in the depths of his stomach. “I wonder how good Potter’s control is over the MCE?” Draco remembered his “Care of Magical Creatures”-teacher, Hagrid, and how he was suppose to be in ‘control’ of the Hippogriff. As it had turned out, Hagrid’s supposedly control hadn’t been much against the quirks of a feral mind. 

So why the fuck would Potter be different from their teacher? Because this time there wasn’t one animal on the loose, it was hundreds of them. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to relax after all. Perhaps Pansy was right in that they should find a way out from here as soon as possible. 

Draco turned to his friends with a worried expression. “Just to be on the safe side”, he said with lowered voice. “Let’s lay low and don’t outright mention our names… Okay?”

Pansy gave Draco a surprised look but was quick to agree. Blaise on the other hand looked confused for a moment as he scanned Draco for clues of the sudden change.

“Not all dogs obey their masters”, was all Draco said in response to Blaise’s raised eyebrow. The dark haired Slytherin took the answer in stride as he nodded in understanding. Just because Potter wouldn’t go on a rampage didn’t mean that nobody else would. The ‘accident’ in Diagon Ally was still fresh in Draco’s mind when the trio silently made their way towards the common room. 

“ATTENTION STUDENTS OF HOGWARTS!”

All students stopped and grew quiet as an enchanted voice echoed over the filled corridor. Draco shot an uneasy look towards Pansy and Blaise as he sharpened his ears over the whispers around them. 

“ALL STUDENTS ARE EXPECTED TO COME DIRECTLY TO THE GREAT HALL UPON RECEIVING THIS MESSAGE! I REPEAT COME DIRECTLY TO THE GREAT HALL, WHEREVER YOU ARE. YOU ARE ALL EXPECTED THERE WITHIN HALF AN HOUR!”

The whispers around them increased as the voice repeated the message for a second time. Draco felt something cold shiver inside of him as the crowd started to move in a mutual direction. The Great Hall.

“What was that about”, Pansy whispered as she shoved a second year out of her way to be able to walk beside Draco. 

“I don’t know”, Draco responded with a distracted voice. His brain was working like mad with different scenarios that played in his head. Maybe Potter was more powerful than any had expected? Perhaps he had simply killed the headmaster and would punish the wizards who dared to rise against him? Perhaps Draco would be first on the list, seeing that his dad was Mr Riddle's right hand and Riddle himself didn’t have children. Perhaps the bloodthirsty freaks really would torture him? Draco felt the sudden urge of turning around and start running, preferably never stopping. Away from this castle where he now was surrender by animals that would love nothing more than rip his heart out. He really didn’t want to die… 

“Draco?” Blaise woke him up from his panicking thoughts with a careful hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Calm down, nothings bad is going to happen.”

“How do you know?” Draco wondered silently as he tried to calm his racing heart. 

“Just use that brain of yours for once. Nobody’s going to kill you.”

Draco pushed away his wild fantasy and tried to see everything from a neutral point of view. He whished he could lay down in the common room and close his eyes but knew that it was impossible to return to the dungeons at the moment. He inhaled deeply and tried to arrange his thoughts as they walked down the loud hallway. 

Blaise was right, of course. It was very unlikely that Potter would have taken down Dumbledore just like that. The guy was a vampire not a God for Christ sakes. What on the other hand was more probably was that Dumbledore wanted to reassure the students and inform them of the terms of the occupation. That was the most likely scenario in Draco’s mind and he decided to hold on to it until he was proved wrong. No need to panic about things that might or might not happen. Anyway, it was not like he could escape. 

The Great Hall was filled with people. Almost like this was another welcoming feast, only this time in the middle of the term. Draco felt his heart melt of relief as he saw the headmaster sit in his usual seat beside McGonagall and… 

Draco did a double take as he noticed the dark haired teen that sat beside Dumbledore. He couldn’t really see his face well as the stranger had his head turned away from the Draco, facing Dumbledore. But somehow Draco knew that he was staring into the back head of one Mr Potter, Elder Vampire, MCE’s rebellion leader and one of the most dangerous things that walked this earth. Draco felt his heart freeze as he regarded the seemingly harmless black mess that was Potter’s hair. Of all the creatures Draco would come to face, this one was the most deadly of them all. He suddenly didn’t have a doubt about that Potter could kill everyone in Hogwarts if he wanted to. Draco didn’t know where this certainty came from but oh boy was he certain. 

Perhaps it had been all the times when Draco had come face to face with a creature, especially after the Hippogriff. His body usually went rigid and his senses focused on the creature in front of him, making him hyper aware of its every move. Hagrid had even gone so far as to tell him in his forth year that he was a natural with handling animals, at which Draco had just rolled his eyes. Maybe he could read the beasts better than most, but that was only because of his fear for them, or maybe his knowledge of what they could do. Or more likely because of his fantasy suggesting what they very much would do if given the chance. 

Draco had made sure that said chance was never given. 

So perhaps that was why Draco stared at the black hair half a hall away from him with fear colouring his expression. The hair was dark as midnight, seeming to represent the dark that lay inside of the creature and Draco found that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the raven dark locks.

Then the most extraordinary thing happened, or perhaps the most terrifying. Because as Draco stood there, frozen at the spot with Blaise tugging at his arm. The black-haired head suddenly turned around. Draco felt a silent scream evade him as he found himself looking into the face of one of the most stunning creatures he’d ever seen. For a moment Draco forgot that he was staring at a freak, beast and monster. For a moment Draco felt how his heart jumped of something else than the unnatural fear of the unknown. Because Draco had never seen a more captivating face in his entire life. 

The high cheekbones and golden skin gave an unearthly feeling to the vampire in front of him. Making Potter seem dangerous and oddly enchanting at the same time, almost making Draco want to draw nearer. Just to feel that skin underneath his fingertips… 

But then as Draco’s eyes collided with the Vampire and he felt the cold reality return with bruising force. He realised that he was basically looking into the Avada Kedavera curse. Draco was suddenly so certain of his death that he flinched away with a choking sound escaping his lips. The green eyes across the hall watched him as Draco managed to tear his gaze away from death and return to the warm, brown irises of Blaise. 

The dark haired Slytherin stared at Draco with a concerned look. He seemed to take in the silent plea for help as he grabbed a hold of Draco’s arm and steered him across the hall towards the Slytherin table. 

“What the fuck was that about?” Blaise accused as he placed himself from beside the blonde Slytherin. “I thought you was all for ‘laying low’?” 

Draco felt himself shake slightly as he stared up at Blaise with desperate eyes. “He really was looking at me right? It’s not me that’s going crazy?”

Blaise stared at Draco with a clear gaze and shook his head before muttering. “He was staring right at you Draco…” 

“Fuck.”

“Hey”, Blaise relented as Draco violently shoved his face into his hands. Palms making a distinct sound of skin against skin when they connected with the forehead of the blonde Slytherin. “Relax, I’m sure it was nothing-”

“Nothing?! I was-”

“Yeah nothing”, Blaise pressed on as he sent a pleading look in Pansy’s direction. She seemed to have gotten the message, as she was quick to agree with Blaise’s statement. 

“Just relax”, she said with narrowed eyes that followed the figures at the head table. “Everyone is looking at Potter right now, your stare was just one among thousands.”

Draco turned in his seat so that his gaze was able to sweep over the Great Hall. Pansy was right, there were undoubtedly a lot of curious looks that were sent Potter’s way. Only difference between Draco’s interaction and the rest of the schools was that Potter kept his gaze firmly on Dumbledore, not even acknowledging the hundreds of whispers that circled the air. Draco relaxed a fragment as he calmed his racing heart. 

It’s fine, Draco thought to himself. Potter doesn’t have a grudge against you just your father. The MCE would never torture a wizard; the MCE-act would be forgotten all together if that was the case and it just doesn’t seem like Potter’s style. 

Draco silently pondered that last thought as he continued to observe the head table with careful eyes. 

Yeah, Potter was still to actually hurt a wizard. Sure his fellow freaks had done that dude in in Diagon Ally and the battle against the home-guard wizards had been bloody and brutal, but Potter hadn’t fought. And believe it or not but there had only been three casualties in that… brawl? Two wizards and a werewolf, and of course some dozen injured people who were sent to st Mungos. But according to the Prophet they would all recover, at least physically, mental was another thing altogether. So it would make no sense for Potter to attack them? They were after all children, not adult wizards with the power to fight against them.

Draco allowed his gaze to make a quick sweep over Dumbledore, ignoring the black haired boy that lurked beside the man. 

Yes, Dumbledore would never allow any students to come to harm. Draco was certain. 

As the hall filled out with more and more students each minute, Draco felt himself relax as he joined his fellow Slytherin in speculating about what was to be said. Blaise remained quiet beside him, undoubtedly deep in thoughts as Pansy loudly declared the situation “scandalous” to her female friends. Draco made sure to keep his voice as low as possible as the rumble in the Hall grew rowdier when the time ticked by, closing in to the half hour ultimatum. 

At last Dumbledore stood up from his chair with his hands outstretched, making the student body fall silent immediately. He smiled a small smile as his eyes twinkled with cheerfulness. Like this school wasn’t occupied but rather on the receiving end of a visit from old friends. Draco held his breath with the rest of the school as they waited for Dumbledore to ‘spill the beans’. 

“Good evening to you! I’m sorry for this interruption of whatever fun or thrilling activity you were surely up to”, he smiled reassuringly and even managed to get some of the younger student’s chuckling. “But as you might have heard, we got a rather unique situation on our hand of which you must be informed.” 

You could almost feel how the student body leaned forward in their seats as Potter rose up as well, standing tall beside the headmaster as his killing-curse green eyes swept over the hall. Draco fought a shiver as Potter’s gaze swept past him. 

“Thank you”, Potter’s voice was not loud but it was without a doubt heard by the whole hall. Draco shivered as he heard the surprisingly soft voice of Potter, as the rebel leader stood relaxed beside Dumbledore with his hands along his side. Draco had to admit that Potter was pretty tall, probably an inch taller than him and that the rebel leader seemed fit. Perhaps that was something that came with being the leader of a rebellion? Having to be prepared to fight, both with body and mind. 

Dumbledore nodded towards Potter as he took a step back to let the raven-haired boy speak for himself. Potter didn’t seem scared as he looked out over the students, wary perhaps or maybe calculating, but far from nervous for finding himself speaking in front of hundreds of students.

“Good evening”, Potter greeted them, still with a soft voice. “I’m sorry to inform you that at the moment we can’t allow you any outward contact with the world.” The hall was deadly silent as Potter continued. “As many of you know or maybe suspects, the MCE rebellion has for the time being taken over this school. But-” Potter said before the students could start to whisper. “You have my promise, as have your principal, that no students will come to harm if you obey these three simple rules. One-“ Potter held up three fingers while bending down one of them as he continued. “No contact with the outer world through owls or other means. The students we find doing this will be put in isolation in supervised quarters until we see fit to let them out or we leave the school.” 

Potters words were met by silence as he lowered a second finger. “Second rule. Don’t try to flee from this place. If any of you decides to escape we will hunt you down and bring you back here”, Potter’s eyes darkened slightly and Draco was pretty sure that he wasn’t the only one who trembled at the sight. “If you try you will also be put in isolation, receiving the same treatment as if you broke rule one.” The dark-haired Vampire paused and looked around in the hall, almost daring people to oppose him before lowering his last finger and dropping his arm down his side. 

“Third and last rule”, he said and continued to gaze out over the people that watched him in an alarming fascination. “If you try to hurt any of us, we will defend ourselves.” Potter’s gaze turned deadly as he uttered the last rule and Draco felt a familiar fear return as he looked into the eyes of a feral monster. 

This was crazy. How were they suppose to coexist with animals who could kill them if they made the wrong move, how could Dumbledore allow this to happen. Draco sent a look towards the old man behind the Dark Vampire, he looked troubled. 

So, Draco thought as the Vampire disappeared from the front, the headmaster isn’t taking this lying down… He was obviously in disagreement with endangering his students but this was supposedly the best deal he’d been able to make. The best conditions for a supposedly truce. 

Dumbledore retook his place in front of the students and wrapped the whole thing up with a calm voice and reassuring eyes. The MCE was to be stationed in the east wing of the castle and should not be disturbed while they stayed there. Some guards would also be around in the yard and guarding the premises and a couple would be wandering the halls to keep an eye on things. Dumbledore said that there was nothing to be worried about but warned all the same everyone not to appear hostile or attack. Like they needed to be told twice. 

Potter watched the whole interaction from the head table with that piercing stare of his sweeping the hall. Keeping an eye out for troublemakers no doubt. 

Dumbledore finished his speech with reminding everyone that classes would proceed as usual and that communication outside the castle was from here on strictly forbidden as well as leaving the area.

Draco felt a jolt of adrenaline hit him as he rose from the table with his classmates. The whole thing was over. Finally! Draco longed for bed and something strong to calm his frayed nerves and beating heart. He tugged at Blaise’s arm as Pansy joined them with a scowl on her face. Obviously she didn’t enjoy being told what to do and what not to do and proceeded at once with complaining about how MCE dared to treat them, THEM, like they were the ones that needed to be contained. Blaise interrupted Pansy in her rant outside the common room as it stood two tall men at the side of the portrait. Slytherin’s were streaming in through the open portrait hole as the men regarded the flow of students with calculating eyes. Draco looked at them with wary as he immediately recognised one of them. 

Fenrir Greyback. Wizard murderer, a living nightmare and apparently part of the MCE rebellion. Draco felt a choking feeling as he saw the man his father had put in prison ten years ago in front of him. 

Who had he been kidding; this situation would never be safe or okay. If the MCE was made out of many more people like Greyback, Draco had nothing to worry from Potter. He would probably already be dead before the almighty Vampire was even made aware of him being Lucius son. 

Fuck.


	2. Have we been introduced?

Fenrir Greyback. Werewolf of the worst sort. The kind of wolf that was put into myths and legends. Usually prime material for nightmares and the like. 

Ten years ago the wizard world had finally caught the rapist and killer called Greyback, a horrible monster that had fuelled fears for generations to come. Draco’s father had only been one of the many to fight for the kiss verdict. But… in vain.

Apparently the Werewolf madness that was a follow of the curse had made the “truth serum”-hearing invalid and no one even dared to watch the memories of the man. Terrified of what they might see, terrified of going crazy. The other problem was about evidence. Or to be more specific, the lack of it.

Since Greyback had this presumably nasty habit of eating his victims, there wasn’t really much to show… So the only thing the prosecutors had to go on were the living victims. The broken down, hallucinating people that Greyback had wounded beyond recognition. The ones that had traits of the Werewolf madness, but no wolf form to separate the madness from sanity. In other words it had been the witness of loonies and the work of righteous men that had been the doom of Greyback. The sentence had been Azkaban, not the kiss. But non the less… 20 years in Azkaban was almost as good as any death sentence could ever be. 

But apparently, Draco thought as he got ready for bed. Those 20 years seemed to have shortened down to ten or less. Had the MCE attacked Azkaban or how had the heavily secured wolf escaped? Why was he even in Potter’s pack, the MCE? Didn’t they stand for equality and peace between all beings? Because if it was one thing Draco knew, it was that Fenrir Greyback would never stand for anything even remotely related to coexistence. He hated wizards almost as much as they hated him and would love to sink his disgusting teeths in flesh, to kill or make more of his kind. 

Draco shivered when he remembered the night when his father had came home with a triumphing smile on his lips. Proudly telling about how the court had been in favour of locking away the beast in Azkaban to rot. It had been a close call, with the lack of evidence and all, but they had made the verdict pass with only one vote more in favour. That vote had belonged to Draco’s father. Who had gleefully smiled at the wolf before raising his hand a heartbeat after everyone else’s when the call ‘in favour’ rang out. Making the court hold their breaths and making Fenrir feel a tingle of hope before crushing it cruelly. 

Or so Lucius had said when he’d put Draco to sleep that very evening, right before giving him a kiss on his forehead with a mumble that no monsters would ever touch his dragon, he’d make sure of it. 

Draco closed his eyes and prayed for sleep to come as his thoughts ran wild. He didn’t want to dwell on Potter’s deadly green eyes, or the monster called Fenrir wandering Hogwarts halls. Nor did he want to think about his dad and how fucked up this entire situation was. Occupation of Hogwarts, what a load of bullocks. Wasn’t the school supposed to be one of the safest places in whole of Great Britain? Or was that just a catch phrase Hagrid had bellowed to the starry eyed first years that was too stupid or too naïve to even consider the possibility of trade marketing? 

Draco let out a long sigh before forcibly shutting down his thoughts. What ever the future had in store he would just have to see. Because right now the best strategy was to lay low, just floating with the stream and hope that the freaks stayed far away from him, especially if MCE was made of people like Fenrir. Draco shivered slightly at the thought. 

So anyway, he’d just have to ride this out. Draco was sure that his father in this very moment was doing everything in his power to end the occupation. Everything from putting pressure on the Minister to plotting an attack with the home-guard wizards. 

Content with that thought, Draco drifted of to an uneasy sleep, filled with disturbingly green eyes and the colour red. 

*

Draco was jumpy the next couple of weeks. Very jumpy in fact. But as he said to Blaise after the three weeks mark, where was the action? The drama? This was even more boring that the school year usually was! 

All their studies had continued, their lessons, essays and homework. Only difference was that the east wing was off limits and so far, everyone had respected that. Otherwise nothing! No patrolling, no freaks looming in dark corners not even another sight of Potter!

And the thing was that the professors were now stricter than ever with the MCE living so close to the students. More people were patrolling the halls at night, it had apparently become a non-tolerance to break the rules and fighting among students was treated with detention every weekend for the rest of the year! If the hourglasses that preserved points could become negative it sure would have, at least for Gryffindor. 

As it was Slytherin was in the lead with 40 points just before Ravenclaws 37 points and Hufflepuffs 12… Gryffindor had one point this morning, but it might have changed by now. 

So yes this occupation that had scared the living daylights out of Draco at the beginning had been a big let down. The only thing that was even remotely uncomfortable was the lack of letters every morning at breakfast. Draco always turned his head towards where the owls usually appeared every morning, only to be reminded that they were still under occupation, no matter the ‘lack’ of action. 

But he guessed that this was preferable to being scared stiff and living in constant vigilance, petrified of every shadow. So it actually came as a surprise when something did happen. If only Draco hadn’t been in the middle of it.

He’d been out walking. Sure it had been in the middle of the night and yes that was probably a pretty stupid thing to do considering… everything. But Draco hadn’t been able to take it anymore! Blaise and Pansy had found a new way of annoy each other, which over all wasn’t a bad thing. The only problem was that this new strategy involved Draco, or rather involved Draco’s sanity. Because as soon as they fought over something (which were very usual) Blaise would suddenly end his argument with: “Isn’t that so Draco? Aren’t I right?” Pansy would immediately responded in a similar fashion, demanding that Draco agreed with her. To be completely frank, Draco couldn’t care less and usually didn’t even know what the arguments were about. So he would just rise up from the couch in the common room or from his seat in the Great Hall and move far, FAR away from the two of them. 

But that night after a rather heated fight followed by the “Draco agrees with me, riiiight?” he couldn’t take it anymore. So he’d done a very stupid thing, he’d left the dorm with a notice me not spell and been on his merry way. Exactly where he was going was unknown, just anywhere but the Slytherin common room. 

So he walked the empty halls, mindful of the extra professors that had been rumoured to walk the dark corridors. Oddly enough his brain didn’t even register the possibility of freaks. He hadn’t seen anyone for three weeks so the thought of monsters and feral animals had somehow escaped his mind. 

Draco just breathed in the cool night air and felt his headache disappear to be replaced with a cheerful mind. He was pretty certain that this was the most quiet he’d experienced since the occupation and he basked in the soundless echoes within the castle. 

“Hi.”

Draco jumped ten feet into the air. No kidding he jumped ten fucking feet into the air and almost screamed, but only almost as he managed to choke it down to a muffled squeal. 

There was someone beside him, with a velvet smooth voice and chilling green eyes. But Draco was too worked up to realise just who the bastard was that stood before him with a smirk in place. Draco sneered and straightened his robes with angry hands. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” He asked angry in a hushed voice as he poked a finger in the stranger’s chest. Never mind that the dark-haired guy in front of him was at least a head taller and broader. “Do you enjoy giving people heart attacks?! HUH? DO YOU?!” Draco had to force his voice to be quieter as he continued with his lecture. “You sadistic, barbaric, squib to a wizard… I could report you, you know, for being out of bed, what are you in for house anyway? Gryffindor? You sure look like one of those naïve idiots that still thinks Dumbledore is the new Merlin…” 

“Why would you report me out of bed? You’re out yourself?” The stranger smirked at him with closed lips but Draco only huffed with irritation. 

“Please”, he said and slid on the Malfoy mask that he’d mastered at the age of three. “I am permitted to wander these halls.”

“Really”, the stranger raised an amused eyebrow. Draco didn’t really like this kid before him, he had too much self-confidence for his taste and he made a point of studying the dark-haired boy before him. 

He was tall, as previously mentioned, and had dark wild hair that made something tingle in a not-all-bad-way inside of Draco. But as Draco gaze moved onto the strangers face his heart suddenly skipped a beat. How the fuck had he not noticed the green eyes, the golden pale skin and the predatory stance before now?! Before him stood no other than BLOODY Potter! A vampire. Not just any vampire but the leader of all vampires walking this EARTH. Standing one foot from Draco who had just compared him with a squib and a naïve idiot. 

Draco realised that very moment that yes: He was literally fucked! Just call him a blood bag and be gone! Tell his family that he loved them and that Blaise and Pansy should spend their energy shagging instead of fighting. 

“You’re… You’re”, Draco mumbled and felt a tremor stronger than anything he’d ever felt before arrive, making his legs jelly and turning his brain to porridge. He felt how his legs gave out as he saw the world tilt for a moment before it got steady once again. Draco marvelled that he was still staring up at Potter instead of looking down on the stone floor with a concussion. That was before he noticed that Potter had grabbed a hold of his arm. 

Draco was just stared. 

A pale hand with unmarred skin and a faint glow. The contrast between his dark robe and the vampire’s hand was almost comical in their opposite. The moon filtered through the big windows that marred the corridor wall and gave just enough light to make Draco see reality mixed with a little bit of imagination.

The grip on his arm was steady. It didn’t hurt but it wasn’t feather light either. It was actually nothing short of extraordinary in a terrifying but simple way. Draco breathed out a faint breath he hadn’t known he was holding before trying to stand on his feet once again. But to no avail. He was still shaking worse than a leaf in an autumn storm.

“Hey, hey”, he heard the velvet voice and his heart went from quickstepping to running in a heartbeat. He started to hyperventilate. 

Fuck, Draco thought as his breath came wheezing out from his lungs. Can’t fucking BREATH! Calm down… calm DOWN! 

His breath sounded like the breath of a dying animal that just had its throat slit and he got no air. NO AIR! 

“Don’t… *ha*… kill… *ha*… me”, Draco rattled between panicking breaths as he tried not to faint. He meet concerned green eyes above him that watched with a serious expression. He felt himself being laid down on the floor with care as he watched the man above him with a confused stare. 

Potter stared down at him with a sincere but steady gaze before shaking his head slowly. “Why would I kill you?” He asked frankly and with curiosity lancing his voice. 

It came so unexpected that Draco forgot to panic and just stared right back up at Potter with big eyes. Why would Potter kill him really? He didn’t think rationally right now. Potter, the leader of MCE the one preaching about equality between wizards and creatures alike. Why would he kill Draco? He would gain literally nothing and probably lose his credibility all together. 

Draco felt a red blush creep over his features as he realised that he’d let his fears control him. His heart was still beating quicker than normal, but the paralyzing terror had left him, mostly. 

“Sorry”, he mumbled as he stared up into green oceans. They didn’t really resemble the colour of the killing curse anymore. They were more like the green of a forest, or similar to the grass on a summer field. “You got pretty eyes.” 

The words had left Draco’s mouth before he’d even noticed he’d opened it. Wow talk about embarrassing. One moment begging for his life, the next moment complimenting the very, VERY dangerous vampire. 

Potter stared at him with a serious expression. Before cracking up with laughter. 

“What…*haha* The fuck… *haha*” He howled with the endearing sound and Draco found himself watching the rebellion leader being rendered to a quivering mass of shakiness on the floor. The Malfoy ego that Draco had inherited did not take kindly to being laughed at and he got up from his fetal position with haste to stare down at the laughing vampire. He looked around the hall that was now bouncing with the sound of mirth that the vampire extracted, afraid of teachers coming to investigate. 

“Shhh”, he said with as much annoyance as he could muster while trying to hide his embarrassment. “You’re waking the whole damn castle!” 

But Potter the little shit-head did nothing to heed Draco’s command as he just continued with the ‘roll on floor’ act he had going while sounding close to pain with fucking disgusting joy. 

Draco made an irritated sound that was close to a whine before marching over to Potter with loud stomps. He didn’t really think as he straddled the almost crying boy and put his hand over the annoying mouth. 

“Can you just shut the fuck u-”

Draco interrupted himself as he felt something sharp against his palm that was currently covering Potter’s mouth. He went pale as a ghost when he realised that the sharp thing was Potter’s fangs. 

Potter went quiet as he stared up at Draco with surprised eyes. Guess he didn’t get straddled by a mentally weak wizard everyday, Draco thought with a hammering heart as he realised his momentarily brain laps. What was with him tonight?! Potter seemed to make him mentally ill somehow; there was no other way to describe his actions. But right now he sat on a hard stomach that belonged to a deadly vampire and his hand was literary on that vampire’s mouth. 

His breath quickened again, Draco silently wondered if this was another attack telling it was on its way. Who would have thought that he would challenge life with offering his palm to a vampire and a very powerful vampire at that. 

He watched how Potter’s eyes grew concerned as Draco’s hand still rested on the evidence of a feral monster under the green-eyed façade. Potter grabbed a hold of Draco’s wrist carefully. Draco only breathed deeply repeating the mantra “Potter won’t kill you, Potter won’t kill you” inside his head. One of Potter’s fingers where slowly massaging Draco’s backhand, drawing small circles of reassurance. And even thought Potter’s skin was cold against Draco’s own, the gesture was like a lighthouse in a storm, guiding him back from the edge of panic. Draco drew a deep breath through his nose and felt the feeling of fear leave enough room for rational thoughts. Potter stared at him concerned and Draco managed a shaky smile to show that he was okay; he wouldn’t go mental again. Potter’s lips moved under Draco’s hand and he felt the outlines of a smile underneath his palm. His heart still beat too quickly and his arm trembled slightly but he felt safe, somehow, as Potter laid still as a stone underneath him and a sincere smile on his lips. 

“Okay”, Draco said in a hoarse voice. “I’m okay.” Potter just raised an eyebrow at the statement. Probably to scared to move his mouth to respond in case Draco would freak out again. Draco decided that he liked quiet Potter better than the one who’d laughed at his laps of sanity. 

“I like you more quiet”, Draco concluded with a cocky smile. Potter only rolled his eyes in return before tapping an impatient finger on Draco’s wrist. Draco looked down on his hand in faked surprise. “What? You want me to remove this?”

He honestly didn’t know what he got this confidence from; maybe it was the fact that Potter wouldn’t hurt him. And just not because of the MCE-act but because Potter obviously wasn’t someone who enjoyed hurting people. He’d helped Draco when he’d panicked even thought he didn’t have to and also made sure to calm him down when he’d started to hyperventilate. Potter was just that kind of person… freak or whatever. Nothing even remotely close to Fenrir or his line of thoughts that was centred around killing and maiming. 

So when Potter just raised a ‘you-sure-you-want-to-mess-with-me’ eyebrow Draco feigned yet another surprised expression that stated ‘I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about’. He leered down at Potter without really thinking about neither safety nor dangerous beasts, just about how he right now had one on Potter. 

His short triumph only lasted a millisecond as he felt the unmistakably wet warmness of a tongue against his palm. He stared into Potter’s eyes that challenged him as he felt the saliva that grazed his hand. His hand stayed over the mouth with the razor sharp fangs that could rip him to pieces and the warm tongue that made it’s second stroke over Draco’s palm before what was happening registered to his brain. 

He jumped twenty feet away from Potter in two milliseconds. 

Draco leaned against the corridor wall on shaky legs as he watched Potter slowly got up from his position on the floor, all the while watching Draco with a reassuring smile. 

Draco didn’t know what to feel. On one hand Potter had teased him, he knew that, but that didn’t make his heart beat slower as he’d just been what? Tasted by a vampire? Like some sort of fine wine? Or had the gestured indicated that Potter wanted to drink his blood? He felt a wave of something close to panic wash over him. His breaths became longer and deeper as he tried to fight it off. 

Remember, he chided himself. Potter would not hurt him, he had only done this to get Draco off him. Draco felt how his breathing became calmer and how his brain broke free from the horrifying images of Potter with a red mouth and a dead Draco at his feet. 

Draco opened his previously closed eyes to stare into a calming ocean of green. His breath stuttered at the sight. 

“Hey, I was just joking”, Potter said with a concerned look. As if he was afraid of scaring Draco with fast gestures, like Draco was a nervous rabbit in front of a wolf. Draco swallowed at that image; maybe it was the truth after all? Was he playing with death? As he looked up at Potter who had a very non-threatening stance and an obviously worried expression Draco was once again reminded of that Potter wasn’t Fenrir. He was… not really like any freak Draco had met before, which was a good thing, a very good thing. 

“Right”, Draco answered and cursed his trembling voice. He was not afraid. Potter was just like any other friend he had, like Blaise or Pansy. 

He. Was. Not. Afraid. 

“You’re scared”, Potter concluded with furrowed eyebrows.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“You think highly of yourself”, Draco said and turned his gaze away from Potter’s. Of course he was scared, it was pretty obvious to anyone within a miles radius. Potter may not want to harm him but he couldn’t supress the overwhelming fear every time he was reminded of Potter’s more feral side. He didn’t want to fear him, because Potter almost seemed like a decent bloke but at the same time he wasn’t human. 

Draco felt his trembling increase as he though about how Potter became an Elder Vampire. He had killed the last one… Killed him in cold blood. Potter might seem like someone almost human at the moment but Draco knew close to nothing about the raven-haired boy’s past. Potter could have killed his fair share of humans, maybe like this… Maybe by lulling them into a false sense of security before striking, before killing them. 

But why the hell would he want equality between wizards and creatures if he wanted to feast on blood?! That sounded very counter productive to Draco and he used the thought to calm his hammering heart. 

Potter just stared at him with curious eyes as he without a doubt heard how Draco’s heart grew calmer. The vampire moved closer to him with small steps, clearly showing Draco what he was doing so that the blonde had the possibility to protest. Draco just stared at the boy who gracefully moved towards him, his steps producing no sound at all in the quiet hallway. Actually the only thing that sounded was Draco’s deep breaths that grew slightly more erratic as Potter closed in on him. 

Draco tried to force the image of a vicious Potter out of his head. An image that contained him being slammed into the corridor wall and fed from with strong hands holding him still. He silently fought with himself as the different images of ‘Potter biting down Draco’s throat’ and ‘Potter smiling with kind eyes’ battled in his mind. 

Draco couldn’t help himself as his heart once again speed up when he backed up against the corridor wall. Potter looked at him with a searching gaze still with an easy smile on his lips. 

He suddenly stopped a few feet or so away from Draco staring at him with concentrated eyes. 

“You don’t have to be afraid you know”, Potter said and tilted his head to the right. 

“I know”, Draco answered quickly, a little too quickly. 

Potter dragged a frustrated hand through his hair. “Listen-”

“No”, Draco interrupted Potter with determinate eyes. “I’m not stupid. I know that it makes no sense for you to attack me. Even if you were an evil vampire…”

Potter rolled his eyes at the expression, which Draco pointedly ignored.

“…you wouldn’t attack me right now. Because it would break the truce and the whole Equality-act you guys got going-”

“The act is cancelled didn’t you hear about Diagon Alley?”

“Oh please”, Draco countered and rolled his eyes. “That’s one set back. I’m not seeing you and your crew go ballistic and that’s because you know, as well as the rest of the wizard world, that it’s not over.” 

Potter looked closer at Draco, clear appreciation shining in his eyes. “Smart kid”, he said with a lopsided smile. “So even thought you know that I would never attack you, not only because I’m a nice guy…”

At this it was Draco’s turn to roll his eyes.

“…but also because of my current position with the Ministry… You’re still afraid?” Potter raised an elegant brow at the blonde boy in front of him as to question WHY with capital letters. Draco only turned his head away, looking out over the empty corridor, all to avoid the vampire’s questioning gaze. 

“I’m not afraid.”

“The hell you are-”

“I’M NOT!” Draco turned his gaze away from the empty hall with an angry scowl, only to come face to face with Potter. The vampire had obviously sneaked up on him when he’d avoided looking at the fanged boy and right now there was mere inches in-between them. Draco’s whole demeanour changed over a second as he almost relapsed into the quivering, hyperventilating mass that his fear rendered him to. 

“Hey”, Potter spoke softly as Draco tried to fight back his unreasonable terrors. “I thought you weren’t afraid?” 

Draco heard the teasing in the words and straightened at the taunt. He was after all a proud heir to the Malfoy throne and even though his mind screamed RUN, he held his ground meeting Potter’s gaze while repeating his new found chant in his head: “Potter won’t kill you, Potter won’t kill you”.

“I’m not… afraid”, Draco’s voice sounded weak even to his own ears as he stared into the face only inches from his own. “But honestly”, Draco continued after a beat of silence. “You’re standing pretty close.”

Potter looked surprised for a moment before chuckling. “Does that bother you?” He asked with amusement in his voice. Draco stared in into the green eyes before him as he swallowed, suddenly more nervous than afraid.

“No”, he replayed with defiance. “I’m not afraid.” 

“Right…” Potter sounded doubtful. 

Draco grew suddenly annoyed at the Elder Vampire in front of him. “No I’m not afraid, maybe a bit spooked but hey, it’s not everyday you have your hand pressed onto TEN-FUCKING-INCH FANGS.”

“But”, Potter said with a smile that almost cracked his face in two. “As I remember it, it was you who put your hand there… willingly. And they’re hardly ten inches, I do have a jaw you know.”

Draco gave the clearly amused vampire an annoyed look as he barley supressed the urge to stomp the floor in annoyance. The vampire was far too smug for his liking. 

“Yeah you’re right”, Draco replayed with mischief in his eyes. “I seriously don’t even get why I was spooked… I mean a rabbit have scarier teeth than you.”

Potter just looked at him with amusement, clearly taking no offence at Draco’s taunts. The vampire’s calm exterior and underlying mirth was annoying as hell and Draco felt himself getting riled up. Something that was usually below him but there was just something about the dark-haired vampire that made him lose grasp on his actions.

“Honestly”, Draco continued while trying to mimic the vampire’s casual air while boiling on the inside. “You’re not really scary at all. If not for the whole vampire element you would probably be nothing special…”

Potter raised his eyebrow at the comment, clearly sending the message: “That’s-all-you-got”.

Draco narrowed his eyes. This vampire was way to cocky.

“Yeah”, Draco continued taking up the challenge. He would get under Potter’s skin; he’d always managed it with Blaise or Pansy who’d even admitted that he had a gift in that area. Annoying people that is… It wasn’t really something worth bragging about. But it came in handy in moments like this.

“And that hair”, Draco shook his head solemnly. “Do you know what a brush is?”

Potter smirked at the comment. 

“Didn’t your parents teach you manner by the way? Sneaking up on people in the middle of the night? Do you have some kind of fetish with scaring school children? Quite distasteful I must say.”

Potter winked at that. Snotty, Draco thought as he continued to throw what he had at the dark-haired boy.

“Perhaps they tried to raise you right, but someone was more into rebelling against authorities.” Draco smirked as he continued. “Such a shame for the family, they probably locked you away because of you’re freakishness…” 

Draco could almost feel the exact moment when he went too far. When Potter went from amused to a dangerous and animalistic. Draco dropped his smirk as he felt the atmosphere grow cold. 

The vampire before him, because right now it was a vampire not a person. Potter looked cold and distant, but worst of all he looked at Draco as if he was a bug. An annoying bug that could easily be taken care of.

Draco swallowed.

Potter casually placed his hands on either side of Draco’s head as he leaned forward, efficiently shutting down any escape rout. Draco felt a numbing fear approach with fast speed at being trapped. He stared up with big eyes at Potter who now looked like the monster Draco had logically known he was. Potter’s eyes didn’t look like the forest anymore, they looked colder and his whole stance screamed predator. 

Draco whimpered as Potter leaned closer, horrifying aware of the dark-haired boy’s slightly opened mouth. 

“Sorry”, the blonde whispered and felt how tears gathered in his eyes. “Sorry, sorry, sorry”, he continued to whisper, scared beyond beliefs. His brain couldn’t even function through the haze of naked terror. He couldn’t see the logic that earlier had calmed him down, the one that had made him aware of Potter rather than a creature. But now, all he saw before him was something lethal, something pissed and something far too close for him to escape. 

Potter looked at him and seemed to forcefully snap back into a nonthreatening stance, closing his mouth and eyes but not backing away. For a moment they stood like that. Draco with a hammering heart and tears running down his cheeks and Potter with his hands on either side of Draco’s head and closed eyes. The blonde Slytherin wanted to wipe away his tears, but was too afraid to move so close to the Elder Vampire. Because right now Potter wasn’t Potter, Potter was the Elder Vampire, of that Draco had no doubt. 

After a few moments of hammering silence Potter finally opened his eyes and looked at Draco with something close to shame. 

“You shouldn’t say sorry”, he mumbled after a while as Draco slowly relaxed. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to go all Vampire lord-”

“Sorry Potter”, Draco interrupted with a whisper. 

Potter looked at the blonde in front of him with a startled look. Draco only gave the vampire a shaky smile, he didn’t want to appear too frightened even thought the tears probably gave him away. 

“I went too far”, the Slytherin continued and lowered his gaze. “And I’m sorry.”

He waited for something to happen, perhaps for Potter to leave but was surprised when he felt cold fingers grasp his chin, tilting his head up. He obeyed the fingers and stared up into beautiful forest green eyes that looked at him kindly. Draco felt a moment of panic, which he fought down, as it was Potter standing before him, clearly regretting his outburst… Well it hadn’t really been an outburst… but it had been scary as hell.

“No”, Potter shook his head as he let go of Draco’s chin. “You didn’t know. I on the other hand knew that you were scared of vampires… I should have controlled myself better”, Potter looked annoyed at himself as he replaced his hand on the wall beside Draco’s head. 

“I’m not-”

“Afraid, I know. Because I’m not really all that threatening, I think too much of myself and doesn’t really stand out as an imposing person. Was that all?” Potter sounded like an old record and Draco pouted slightly. 

“Yeah and that you have puny fangs.”

Potter gave him a wide smile that showed off his teeths with a frightening clarity. Draco swallowed involuntarily at the sight, only inches from his face. Potter sure looked feral for not mentioning deadly with the long white fangs resting on his lower lip. The only thing that held Draco back from falling into a pile of shivering fear was that Potter studied him carefully. Like he was prepared to back away if Draco showed any signs of panicking at the display. 

Draco swallowed once again as he calmed his racing heart. Potter was still Potter, he was only teasing him, otherwise Draco would have noticed. The blonde breathed in and out with long breaths, trying to calm his running heart and shaking hands. He felt oddly proud of fighting the fear that hammered at his brain, urging him to run or fall down in a fetal position. He gave Potter a shaky smile, putting up a front of being unfazed with what he was seeing. Not that he thought Potter would buy the act, but still. 

Potter himself looked like something dangerous but also enchanting in a disturbing way. He was a predator, a vampire, that fact undoubtedly true. But was he the most dangerous thing walking this earth? Draco would not have thought so if not for the proof called MCE or the Daily Prophet where the “legend” of Potter’s powers often had been the main article. Right now Draco found himself standing in front of a vampire, lethal sure, but not a God. 

Potter’s hair was ruffled and seemed oddly soft as he hovered above Draco with that giant smile plastered on his face. His smile widened even more now when it didn’t seem like Draco would fall into another panic attack. 

“Scared?” Potter asked with a low voice that awoke something primal inside of Draco. The Slytherin didn’t know what to answer as he struggled against leaning forward, backward or just from dropping down on the floor in giddiness. He felt something like scared fascination for the creature in front of him, for Potter in front of him. 

He allowed his hand to lightly rest on the side of Potter’s face. The vampire narrowed his eyes at Draco’s movement but stayed still as he probably heard the quick drumming of the blonde’s heart. 

Draco was unsure of what he was doing, but something about being so close to a creature, to something he’d learned to fear, was exhilarating. Especially since this “creature” didn’t seem inclined to attack him or cause permanent damage. Draco’s eyes was almost glued to the white fangs that was on display in front of him and maybe it was the adrenaline, but Draco really wanted to know if they felt as sharp as they looked. 

Potter’s cheek was cold against his hand as he marvelled at the surprisingly soft underneath his palm. He felt somewhat bold as he challenged one of his biggest fears with being this close to Potter, being this helpless in front of him. 

“May I?” Draco breathed as his hand trembled where it rested against Potter’s cheek. Potter looked slightly confused and suspicious but nodded curtly as Draco felt rather than saw Potter’s hands curl to fists on both sides of his head. 

Draco felt his breath became quicker as his hand strayed from Potter’s cheek with slow, oh so slow movements. 

Shit, Draco thoughts as his finger brushed against Potter’s lower lip. I’m doing this. 

His breath quickened as he felt a sickening fear taint his core, as curiousness now was the only thing keeping him from fainting. His finger slid past the lip and he suddenly felt himself sliding on hard teeth and saliva. Draco’s breath hitched and Potter’s eyes had somewhat lost their earlier confusion and he stared at Draco with a burning gaze. 

The blonde Slytherin felt a scared fascination at what he was doing and traced the outline of a fang with soft movements. 

“Wow”, he whispered as he felt cool breath on his hand. “Recon these are pretty dangerous.” Potter didn’t answer him in any other way than moving in another inch towards the blonde. Draco felt something stir inside of him as he put his other hand against Potter’s chest. He didn’t push him back; it was more of a caress than anything else really. 

Draco moved his gaze from watching Potter’s deadly fangs to meet the vampire’s eyes. He looked up into surprisingly dark eyes filled with something akin to hunger. Draco wasn’t sure if this was his queue to run for his life but oddly enough he didn’t want to run. His fears weren’t hammering on his brain with suggestions like “FLEE” or “QUIVER” or something equally stupid. Right now he felt a strange pull towards the vampire in front of him, making him want to feel Potter’s breath on his hand once again and continue to have those hungry eyes directed towards him. 

Potter opened his mouth slightly, making Draco’s finger slide into his mouth. The blonde Slytherin felt the strange sensation in his chest again instead of fear at the gesture. He felt the rough edges of Potter’s teeths around his finger but didn’t really feel afraid. 

But he really SHOULD feel afraid. Because it SHOULD be scary as hell to have you finger inside a vampire’s fucking mouth! 

But for the moment Draco was distracted as Potter stepped in the last inch, nailing the blonde Slytherin between the corridor wall and himself. Draco let out something close to a whimper as he felt a hard body press up against his own, making the sensation in his chest feel close to burning. 

“Potter?” Draco asked with a gasping voice as his body felt like liquid when pressed against the vampire. He shuddered of the tingles that ran all over his body.

Potter didn’t answer as Draco stared into those dark green eyes that bordered to completely black as he felt his finger being gently sucked on. He distantly wondered if fingers were the equivalents of popsicles to a vampire. Draco’s heart was running hundreds of miles an hour as Potter leaned his forehead against the Slytherin’s, still with Draco’s finger in his mouth.

Draco felt his finger being caressed by a tongue and he couldn’t help a small moan from escaping as Potter stared at him with a wild look in his eyes. He felt cool air sweep over his face as Potter exhaled and guessed that Potter must feel his hot breath as well. Especially since said breath was coming out far too quickly right now. He couldn’t suppress a moan as Potter moved a little against him, pressing them even closer with raw strength. 

Somewhere in Draco’s mind he thought about vampire strength and how he was at Potter’s mercy right now… But oddly enough Draco didn’t mind. Not that he actively thought that he didn’t mind (because right now he didn’t really think about anything except Potter’s hard, lean body against his own) but he just felt that he didn’t. It felt way too good to be pressed up against a wall like this for him to mind actually. 

Draco gasped as he felt two steady hands caress his hips. 

“Oh”, he moaned and felt how his eyes almost rolled back at the sensation. His breath came even quicker as Potter’s hand moved up to his waist and down again to rest on his hips. The vampire’s thumbs drew small circles on his lower abdomen and he found himself wondering how the touch would feel without stupid robes in the way. 

Then Potter jerked Draco’s hips against his own and Draco melted. He couldn’t help but moan as his finger slipped out of Potter’s cool mouth in favour of holding onto the vampire’s shoulders. 

Potter seemed to almost smirk at Draco’s noises as he repeated the gesture with a rough thrust. Draco whimpered and threw his head back against the wall. Fuck why did this feel so maddening good. Potter wasn’t even fucking human. 

Draco opened his eyes that had unwillingly closed after the rush of warmth. He stared up into almost completely black eyes, if not for the moonlight that managed to bring forth some dark, dark green, he might have mistaken the beautiful creature above him for a demon. Not that it mattered at this point; Draco only dragged Potter closer against him. The vampire didn’t seem to mind as he bent down his head so that his mouth moved towards Draco’s. 

And Draco suddenly felt how his pulse sky rocked and that he trembled and that he was fucking hard in the arms of a vampire and that he just wanted Potter to thrust against him again because everything felt SO DAMN GOOD!

He whimpered as he felt cool air on his lips and he knew that it was fangs on the other side of that beautiful mouth hovering above his but he didn’t care. 

“Potter”, he moaned and arched against the broader boy’s body. 

“Erherm.”

Draco’s mind felt foggy as Potter stopped his advancing against Draco’s mouth in favour of looking up. The Slytherin was still pressed tightly against the wall and could just breathe at the moment. Draco felt himself still burn and wondered why the fuck Potter had stopped in the middle of something fucking amazing. He inhaled and exhaled deeply as he once again became aware of his surroundings. 

“Professor.” 

Draco heard and felt Potter speak and turned his face in the course of which Potter’s voice was directed to. There, in the middle of the dark hall, stood Professor McGonagall with her wand directed at Potter. Draco felt some of the daze leave him, as he looked at her closer, noticing her defensive stance and slightly shaking arm. 

He took a deep breath and felt his chest press against another, Potter’s, and somehow he regained his senses. 

THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ Yello!  
> Great if you got through it! Hope it was to your liking, it’s summer in two weeks and the updates will be more regular, until then, bear with me :) 
> 
> Have a continuing great night/day!


	3. Not all harmless

Draco remained perfectly still in the arms of Potter as his mind went haywire with “what the fuck” had actually happened. 

Draco wanted to die of embarrassment. He’d moaned… FUCKING MOANED Potter’s name while practically begging the vampire to thrust against him. What the fuck was this?? Wasn’t he suppose to fear vampires and all creatures alike? Not get off on them (not that he had but damn if they’d continued…). Draco couldn’t help a groan from escaping as he thought about what his father would say, not that he would tell him but it was the principle of things. 

Still, Draco couldn’t help wanting the damn vampire pressed against him. Potter just felt… incredible, amazing and feral. And somehow (only Merlin knew why) Draco didn’t mind, rather the opposite. 

He felt Potter shift against him and that burn in the pit of his stomach flared up again. He turned his gaze towards Potter who still stared at McGonagall with watchful eyes, like he expected her to attack. But then again, Draco thought as he looked towards the Transfiguration teacher, she had her wand pointed towards them. 

“Mr Potter”, she said with a steady voice as she studied them with a critical eye. “Would you mind moving away from the student you’re trapping against the corridor wall.” It was obvious that she wasn’t asking. 

Draco pondered if he wanted Potter to move away, but as Potter shifted once again he realised that no, he didn’t want the vampire gone from his persona. 

Potter seemed to think similar thoughts to Draco’s because he looked down at the blonde boy in his arms with a thoughtful expression. Like he wondered what the hell had just happened and if letting go of the blonde would result in never seeing him again. Draco suddenly wondered the same; Potter wasn’t really someone you bumped into on the way to Potions. 

He felt a twinge of sadness as he realised that they were as different as two people could be, or… as a wizard and a vampire could be anyway. 

“Really Professor”, Potter said as he remained where he’d stood before, pressed against Draco. “I’m not hurting anybody.”

McGonagall narrowed her eyes even more as she took a step towards Potter, supposedly threatening. Only problem, Draco realised when her arm trembled for a moment… she was scared. 

He suddenly wondered how they looked like to her; did she think that Potter used him? That the vampire was coating Draco into letting him drink his blood? Or did she think that Potter was forcing himself on Draco? He was currently restrained by Potter but not for the reason of keeping but rather for pleasing. He shuddered with an electrifying sort of anticipation at the thought. 

But he also felt a twinge of worry. Potter’s mouth was mere inches away from his throat and he could for all Draco knew rip his throat out in matter of seconds. But as the blonde Slytherin glanced up at Potter’s watchful face he felt his fears dispatched. No… he didn’t think that the vampire would do that. Sure Potter could get mad and probably make him choke up in fear but the black-haired night creature wouldn’t hurt him without good cause. Draco hadn’t known Potter very long, but if a person could take his teasing and panicking with stride they usually got his seal of approval. 

Especially if they make you hard and trembling, his brain offered with a leer. Draco promptly ignored the voice as he felt his heart hammer a bit harder when he felt Potter’s leg press up between his own.

Potter shifted and the leg pressed in hard and Draco couldn’t supress a sharp inhale. Damn that vampire, there was a fucking PROFESSOR ten feet away and he wanted to continue?! 

To be fair Draco’s body didn’t seem to mind, but the small part of Draco’s brain was clear of fog noticed McGonagall’s worried expression and still trembling hand. She was scared, Draco was horny and Potter… Well he was a vampire end of story. 

“Potter”, Draco said with worry lancing his voice. He didn’t like that the vampire let the old witch sweat, preparing herself for a fight that for all Draco knew, wouldn’t happen. Why was the vampire fighting the professor? Why would he risk the truce in favour of what? Ravage a student? Draco gulped, was he being used? Was this Potter’s way of letting off steam? Draco closed his eyes at the thousands of questions that whirled within, still unable to fully focus because of Potter’s leg that moved in a very distracting manner. 

He tried to appear gathered when Potter turned his green gaze towards him with a curious expression, somewhat colder than before in a odd sort of way that left him with the feeling of unease. As he opened his mouth to speak, Potter pressed his damn leg up between his own and instead of words Draco let out a loud moan at the sensation. 

Potter smirked in a distinctly predator sort of way at Draco’s reaction, sending shivers down the blonde’s spine. 

McGonagall was still standing with her wand pointing at the duo and seemed to have frozen at the display in front of her. “Potter, you let go of Mr Malfoy this instant-”

Draco almost swallowed his tongue as he heard the Transfiguration professor give away his last name. Fuck. 

Potter’s movements slowly stopped as he stared down at Draco with wide, disbelieving eyes. 

“Malfoy”, he said with clear confusion in his voice. Draco didn’t know if he should feel anger or panic at the prospect of being exposed as a Malfoy. 

“Yes”, he said and tried to shift out of the vampire’s grip. Unfortunately Potter had his vampire strength and Draco found himself unable to move. He sneered at the vampire who continued to stare at him with hardening eyes. Gone where the playful smile and careful stance, replaced with irritation and suspicion. Draco felt his defences rise as well. 

Potter gave him a dark smile. “Oh”, the vampire hissed at Draco’s face. “So this ‘scared of the vampire’ act was just a fucking act. Sent by daddy to spy on the enemy camp?”

“Potter”, Draco sputtered with venom dripping from his voice. “You’re even dumber than you look if you think I am spying.”

Potter’s eyes narrowed as he kept holding the blonde Slytherin pressed against the corridor wall. “Dumb is it now.”

“Yes!” Draco tried to slither away from the body pressed against him, but to no avail. 

“Mr Potter!” McGonagall’s exclamation was pointedly ignored as the two boys continued to sneer at each other, still pressed tightly together. 

“Why else would you come up to me?” Potter’s dark voice growled in Draco’s ear.

“I didn’t! Do you have a five-seconds memory? Who the fuck was it that scared the shit out of who?”

Potter looked at him with calculating eyes. “Yeah so you say.”

“Seriously”, Draco groaned. “Are you paranoid as fuck or just that stupid?”

Potter pressed even closer into him and Draco found himself almost squeezed between the wall and the hard body of the vampire. His breath became shallow of the mere pressure against his ribcage. 

“If you were so fucking scared, shouldn’t you be pissing yourself right about now?”

Draco felt himself pause at that. Yeah where was the overwhelming fear that with all right should be making him a shivering lifeless shell? He stared with a slight hesitation into Potter’s eyes. He didn’t feel very afraid right now. Maybe you can only have so many panic attacks in one night? Or maybe the boiling annoyance that had been his trademark since first year won over any other emotion he felt at the moment. 

Yeah that last one was probably it. Because Draco was annoyed as hell. What right did Potter or anyone have to judge him based on his last name? Weren’t Potter standing for equality between wizard and creatures? Should he then really prejudice against a last name? 

Sure Draco had done his lot of judging, but he still couldn’t help feeling down right angry about going from ‘almost making out’ to be met with disgust. 

“Why should I be pissing myself when we’ve already established that you’re not fucking scary.” Draco used his hands to press against Potter’s shoulders to lighten the pressure his body had to endure. Sadly enough it did little to nothing as Potter smiled at him with extended fangs.

“You seemed pretty scared earlier.” He leaned down towards Draco, still with a wide smile plastered on his face. 

Draco felt to his annoyance how his heart speed up as cool breath teased his jaw. He silently wondered if it was in fear or arousal, growing more annoyed when he realised that his body still responded to Potter. 

“There it is”, the vampire’s velvet voice purred in his ear and Draco felt how his breath hitched in his throat. “Du-dum-du-dum-du-dum.”

“Fuck you”, Draco snarled as he felt a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something about having the vampire imitate his heartbeat with that dark voice made Draco burn all over. With a mortifying clarity he realised that his heart rate increased even more at the act.

“Scared?” 

“You wish Potter.”

“Impedimenta!”

Suddenly Draco found himself able to breath, as he was no longer pressed into the wall behind him. Unfortunately, the abrupt freedom also meant that he had little to no time in gathering his physical bearing which resulted in him sliding down the corridor wall on shaking legs. 

Potter was on the other side of the corridor; seemingly unharmed as he’d managed to avoid the spell McGonagall sent his way. He stared at Draco with watchful eyes, the two orbs gleaming green in the pale moonlight that filtered through the corridor windows. Draco just stared back with his silver grey eyes at the vampire who had moved to quick for him to follow. One second he’d been pressed into the cool body of Potter and in the next feel like something had been ripped from him forcibly. 

He was still trying to grasp what had happened when McGonagall’s voice cut the soundless night air. “Mr Malfoy can I suggest that you turn in for the night. I believe that the curfew is still in effect.”

Draco turned his gaze towards the Transfiguration teacher and tired to calm his drumming heart. The old witch seemed sure of herself and unaffected compared to earlier, but Draco could almost bet his right arm that Potter heard the quick beat of bongos from the teachers chest. 

He rose up from his slummed position against the wall with difficulty. Draco noticed that his legs shook pretty badly, maybe because of adrenaline or maybe of fear. In the end he managed to stand up and nod towards the professor before slowly making his way away from the hallway. 

Before he disappeared around the corner, he shot an eye towards Potter. The vampire was now standing a few feet away from the professor. They appeared to be talking and Draco felt how his breath stuttered as Potter’s eyes met his for a brief moment. 

The vampire really looked unearthly with his perfectly sculptured features and close to glowing skin. 

But Draco tore his eyes away from the endless sea of green he was currently drowning in, rounding the corner in a harsh stride and finally be separated from Potter. 

Draco let out a deep breath of relief as he leaned against the wall in exhaustion. What the fuck had just happened?! His mind wondered again, still struggling to find an answer.

He shook his head angrily from one side to another. Was he dreaming or had the last half hour really happened? Draco felt himself surrounded with question marks and screaming voices as he slowly began to make his way towards the Slytherin common room. 

He would talk to Blaise and Pansy. Maybe they could help him understand if he was under some kind of vampire spell or if he just was that fucked up that he got off on freaks (disgusting). 

Draco knew whom he wouldn’t tell about this encounter on the other hand. And that person was called his father. He would be sorely disgusted with what his son had done and Draco honestly didn’t know if he could take the disappointment. It felt like he’d received it too many times already.

So Draco wandered towards the dungeon deep in thoughts, not even noticing the amber gleaming eyes watching him from the darkness. 

*

Draco did a lot of thinking the following days. A-LOT of thinking. 

He’d earlier been set on telling Blaise and Pansy about his nightly brawl with the vampire but in the morning decided against it. It all had felt too surreal when he woke up in the dorm to proceed with showering and brushing his teeths. Everything had felt too much like a normal day in a normal Hogwarts with a normal Draco. Last night might as well have belonged to another world as Blaise sleepily had greeted him in the morning. 

So he hadn’t told a living soul about the encounter, even thought he constantly questioned the wisdom of that decision. 

Draco had in other words tried to sort everything out by himself. Sort out why he’d played along with the vampire, why he’d been seduced (because he had been seduced hadn’t he?) and why it had felt bloody amazing to be pressed against Potter.

He’d moaned the damn vampire’s name and arched against him. He’d felt a sweet thrill instead of fear at the prospect of getting his fingers sucked on. Like he’d loved the danger in the act. Perhaps he had a thing for playing with fire? Or, god forbid, a thing for playing with a specific dark haired Elder Vampire. 

But whatever their brief encounter had been, it was part of the past. Past as in ‘was’, ‘done’ and ‘never ever going to happen again’. Because he had neither seen Potter nor heard anything from the MCE since that fateful night close to a week from now. 

He’d continued with his days as a normal Hogwarts student, doing his homework and playing quidditch. To ground himself in the normality of the situation he’d even teased a few Gryffindor firsties and that even thought he’d stopped with the bully act in third grade. Somehow he just needed the reassurance in the quiet everyday pacing, he craved it just as much as he was repulsed by it. 

Because at night, he’d started to dream. 

He was still unsure why he’d started, because the first night after the ‘Laps of judgement’, (as he liked to call the incident) had been close to normal. So why had every night after the first one been filled with images he really shouldn’t dream about? Had it taken a day for it all to sink in? Or maybe it had been the shower accident that had triggered something. 

He and Blaise had been playing quidditch after classes. Both of them had continued with a few plays after the rest of the team had finished off and were thanks to it alone in the shower room. Blaise had casually pointed out to Draco that his hips were bruised before continuing with washing. The dark-haired Slytherin obviously thought that the bruises came from practise but when Draco studied them closer he saw the difference. Because there was an alarming difference in shape to bruises gained when bumping into someone and bruises shaped akin to fingers. 

That night Draco had dreamt about Potter, a dark shadow with glowing green eyes that had pressed him up against a wall and kissed him. Things always started wonderful and escalated quickly from snogging sessions to something more graphic. Something more real, raw and terrifying animalistic. Potter always remained in control in these dreams and Draco always lost it after seconds in the vampire’s arms. 

The second night hadn’t ended quite as heated, or rather it had but not in a good way. Not in a way that should leave Draco panting with a sticky substance in his pants. Draco dreamt about Potter killing him.

He’d awoken with a beating heart and a hand clasped over his throat in a desperate try to hold in the blood that had poured out of him. But as he awoke more firmly and noticed the quiet snores of his fellow dorm mates he’d realised he’d been dreaming. Worst part of the dreams was that he always woke up hard or already spent. Like he loved the mixture of sex and blood, which he didn’t. He sure as hell didn’t.

That’s why he needed normality, needed Blaise and Pansy to nag or the professors to talk and teach. Otherwise he might lose what was making him a Malfoy or a person as a whole. Because at night he loved the feeling of Potter’s lean body and his fangs. He loved it so much that he in the dim reality of dreams revealed his neck to the bloodthirsty monster and begged him to bite him. 

The days were guilt trips and reminders because even thought a part of him wanted to belong to Potter he needed to focus on the part of him who resented the vampire. He and Potter had had one night of something that had ended in hatred between the two of them. How could the vampire possibly affect him this way as they’d parted on heated terms without any feelings remotely close to anything?! 

The questions drew Draco insane, especially since he didn’t have an answer to a single one of them. The dreams were one problem. Him not telling his friends about Potter was another. Last problem was actually the big issue and one Draco found himself constantly forgetting. Potter knew his last name.

Strangely enough the very thing that had shook Draco’s core a few weeks ago appeared as almost an afterthought at the prospect of Potter nearly kissing him. 

That was also a problem to add to the list, Draco thought darkly. Sorting out priorities. 

But there were good news, or that was at least what Draco tried to convince himself of. Potter had at least not searched for him; neither out of hate nor… anything else. A treacherous voice in Draco’s inner tried to remind him that he wanted Potter but the blonde Slytherin usually managed to push the voice away, at least during the day. Draco was honestly at loss of what he would do if Potter came to him. Would his nightly desires win over any rational thoughts as they always did in dreams? Or would he react as expected, pushing Potter away? 

Luckily enough it never came to that as Potter remained gone. 

Draco had of late, to his dismay, considered going back to the moonlit corridors a few times. Usually after another dream, but had so far managed to resist. McGonagall hadn’t taken any points from him and neither had she in anyway acknowledged what happened a week ago, but Draco was no fool. If the professor would ever catch him out of bed again, Draco was sure he’d loose enough points to place Slytherin below Gryffindor, which in its own was a rather telling image. 

So he’d stayed in bed. Trying to hold onto the reality that was schoolwork and quidditch, ignoring his dreams that managed to drag his sanity towards the edge of lunacy. Trying to get up in the morning and not remember the feeling of Potter’s fangs under his hand or ripping his throat. 

Just when everything that had happened seemed more like a dream than reality the world turned. Fucking everything up once again. 

*

Their defence of Dark Art’s teacher had been below average since forth year. He’d also been old and fragile with a weakening memory. So it didn’t really come as a surprise when he managed to break his arm from falling of a chair, a pretty small chair even. 

Draco had been there when Professor Kosmachevskaia leaned a little too far to the right when demonstrating a wand movement. The whole thing resulting in an anticlimactic dunk and a bit more climatic crack before everyone rushed to aid in very uncoordinated sprint. Madame Pomfrey was called upon and later that same day Dumbledore declared that Professor Kosmachevskaia was taking some time off due to health issues.

According to Blaise was the whole breaking-an-arm-thing very serious when you were as ancient as Kosmachevskaia. Potions that healed younger peoples bones in hours could take days or months when you reached a certain age. Draco was pretty sure that their Defend Against Dark Arts teacher had passed “a certain age” a few centuries ago. 

So it was therefore to their surprise when their head of house announced about the new professor that would take Kosmachevskaia’s place until further notice.

“But how the fuck did they manage to get in a new teacher?” Pansy had asked with furrowed eyebrows. “Aren’t we under occupation?” 

Draco and Blaise had just shrugged their shoulders; they were just as clueless as Pans when it came to the new Professor, and so were the rest of the school. 

*

The trio of Slytherin’s had taken three steps into the classroom when they saw the man at the front of the desk. He looked worse for wear and had a ruffled appearance that matched his second hand clothes. This man is poor, Draco thought with wary as he placed himself between Pans and Blaise. 

It wasn’t unusual to meet wizards that were poor; Draco knew that, despite being born a pureblood in a well off family. But still, this man was a professor looking like a tired beggar? What was up with that? The rest of professors seemed to be well off, or at least able to afford decent clothes. 

Draco felt unease in his chest as he cautiously fingered his own expensive school robe. What was up with this professor? 

The classroom was slowly filled with students that came pouring in through the door. The man at the front sat silently and watched the student body saunter in with careful eyes. He looked nervous, Draco noted with sympathy filling his chest. He also appeared relatively young; maybe this was his first job.

“Wonder how Dumbledore managed to convince Potter to let him in?” Blaise kept a low voice as he carefully studied the fidgeting professor in the front of the classroom. 

Draco felt his breath hitch at the mention of Potter. For fucks sake, Draco thought as he supressed the sudden urge to freeze and calmly replied to Blaise’s question. “Maybe he’s someone both Dumbledore and Potter know of?”

“Please”, Blaise answered with a huff as a group of Gryffindors loudly made their entrance. “Like Potter would know of anyone outside of his Freak Pack.”

“Well he must have been a wizard before being turned to a vampire”, Draco replied with a surprising amount of venom in his voice. “Of course he knows other wizards.”

Blaise just gave him a suspicious look before turning his attention to the front of the class where their new professor now had begun to pace left and right behind the desk.

The man twitched nervously as he scanned the class before him. 

“Hi”, he started and the students immediately fell silent. He coughed discreetly and seemed to brace himself before continuing. Draco felt a pang of sympathy and sneered at a duo of Gryffindors that had sniggered at the nervous gestured. 

The dirty blonde lion scowled at him and made a rude gesture. Draco just rolled his eyes in the silent wording of “oh how mature”.

Apparently the Gryffindor didn’t like his response as he with a “The fuck Malfoy-” actually started to get up from his chair. Almost as if he had sullied his honour, Draco could only sigh in tiredness of the lion’s idiocy, sadly a pretty common trait among the Gryffindors.

“Seamus”, a brown haired witch grabbed hold of this Seamus arm and promptly tugged him back to his seat. The Gryffindor jerked his arm from her grip before getting back, pouting. 

Draco realised with a start that their professor stood quiet in the front and had watched the dispute. When he glanced around he also notice how every student in the room was looking in their direction with various expressions. He groaned as Blaise patted his shoulder in a sympathetic kind of way that left no doubt about the sarcasm behind the gesture. 

“Well thanks a lot”, he mumbled to Blaise as he promptly ignored the Slytherin and Gryffindors in favour of focusing on the professor. 

The man in the front seemed to have lost his thread and shook his head while once again resuming his slow pacing. Draco watched bemused as the new professors nerves were practically shining in their plainness. 

He suddenly stopped in his striding and glanced up at the students that watched him. “As I said…” Here he took an almost trembling step forward. “Hi my name is Remus Lupin, you may call me Professor Lupin or just Lupin, whatever you prefer.” 

Professor Lupin, or just Lupin seemed to gather courage as he stepped closer to the class with almost confident steps. Perhaps he’d survive as a teacher after all, Draco thought with slight satisfaction. 

“Now”, Lupin continued as he had the class full attention. “Have any of you heard about the dark creatures known as Dementors?” 

*

“Finally a real DADA teacher!” 

Draco smirked at Pansy’s exclamation as they made their way towards the Great Hall for dinner. “Yeah”, he nodded as they passed the doors leading into the hall. “He was actually a decent teacher.”

“Decent?” Blaise asked with big eyes. “Compared to Kosmachevskaia was he fucking Merlin reborn.”

Draco rolled his eyes as Blaise just muttered something about ‘decent’ and ‘was bloody brilliant’. They sat down at the Slytherin table and Pansy continued to chat away about… well Draco didn’t really listen so he wasn’t sure. Probably something about how she didn’t like that Ravenclaw girl who dated her ex Adrian Pucey. 

“What”, Blaise suddenly exclaimed as he directed his eyes towards the head table. Draco was quick to follow his lead and scanned the table, but without finding anything amiss. After a moment of two of intense staring with a swooping gaze he turned to Blaise with an annoyed expression. 

“What what?” Draco hissed impatiently. 

Blaise just ignored him and scratched his jaw thoughtfully. “Strange”, muttered the dark-haired Slytherin and Draco felt his patience snap. 

“What’s strange?” He asked and tugged at Blaise’s robe. “Nothings fucking strange.” 

Blaise finally redirected his eyes and gave Draco a surprised look. “Lupin”, he explained with a thoughtful tone tinting his voice. “He isn’t there.”

Draco did another quick over and noticed that Blaise was right; Lupin’s seat was empty. 

“So what?” He asked, not really knowing what was the problem. 

“No I mean why isn’t he here? Shouldn’t he be at the head table now that Kosmachevskaia is ‘out of order’?”

Draco just shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe he’s late?”

“Hm”, was Blaise’s response. Draco left his dark haired friend to it, as Blaise seemed to pounder the question back and forth in his mind. 

Sure maybe it was a little odd that Remus wasn’t at the head table eating with the other professors but it wasn’t uncommon. Sometimes there were essays to correct or simply teacher stuff that prevented attendance to the dinner, lunch or breakfast in the Great hall. Hell even students missed meals sometimes and had to make do with a kitchen visit. That was if you knew where the kitchen was located. 

“Blaise”, Draco said after being the sole subject of Pansy’s attention for a little too long. She had begun to expect him to answer her ranting. “Hey earth to Blaise”, Draco said again and waved a hand in front of the Slytherin’s face. “It’s one meal Blaise, not Pomfrey maiming students.”

Blaise just stubbornly sighed and continued to look in the direction of the head table. “Yeah but this would have been his first meal.” Blaise said with a concerned voice. “He should be here…”

“Oh”, Draco crooned with a false voice. “Are we an itsy tiny bitsy bit worried for the professor?”

Blaise just scowled without dropping his gaze. “That didn’t even make sense.”

Draco just exhaled tiredly. “My face is over here. Are you talking to the air or me?”

The dark haired Slytherin gave a lopsided smile. “But the air is so much nicer.”

“Har har”, Draco muttered as Pansy once again called for attention by a discreet cough. 

Draco gave up trying to capture Blaise’s attention as he with a smile of false joy allowed himself to be Pansy’s ideal ear for the next half hour. Blaise would have to pay him back for this, Draco thought darkly as he with a pained smile agreed that Adrian was starting to get fat. 

”He’s not even hot anymore”, Pansy complained with eyes that said something different as she gazed along the Slytherin table. 

“No”, Draco said with a tired voice. “He’s not.”

Not if you compare to Potter. 

*

That night Draco awoke from another dream, sweaty and itchy. 

“Not again”, Draco muttered with a breathy voice, oddly enough almost panting as he reached towards his wand. 

“Scourgify”, he mumbled before allowing his head to fall back against his pillows with a soft thump. What the fuck had his mind made up this time? Draco closed his eyes and tried to remember as his laboured breathing started to return to normal. 

He recalled the hallways of Hogwarts, which was nothing unusual; for a week now he’d dreamt about hallways. He’d also dreamt about a certain black haired and pale beauty that moved towards him like a panther, elegant and deadly. 

This night seemed no different. He remembered a cold hard body pressed against his own. He remembered silk hair tangled around his fingers and a burning feeling in the pit of his stomach. Draco groaned as he felt something flare up at the mere thought, but he quickly suffocated it. The dreams where bad enough, he would not allow this to effect reality. 

But just as that thought had left his mind Draco remembered rough hands against his naked torso, stroking with sure movements. God, he almost moaned at the memory of the sensation. He could almost feel the cold, but still surprisingly hot, tongue move over his throat with hungry movements, rendering him to something that begged and cried. He’d begged Potter. Like a needy girl or someone with a death wish… probably the later.

“What the fuck is wrong with me”, Draco groaned out to the night air. He didn’t receive any answers, but then again, he hadn’t expected any. 

He closed his eyes as he remembered another image that would have made him fall to his knees if he’d stood up. Green. A hungry green that devoured him. Potter’s eyes no doubt. 

When would this end, Draco thought miserably as he felt himself tingle all over. What was fucking wrong with him? Sure it didn’t bother him as much as he’d thought, that with Potter being a vampire. Actually Draco didn’t even hold it against him, he wasn’t Fenrir Greyback nor would he ever be. But at the same time… Draco was supposed to hate magical creatures, or at least the ones that belonged to the MCE rebellion. Which Potter did. Like really did.

His father might even disown him. 

Draco felt a sudden cold replace the flickering fire that had burned in his stomach. What if his father disowned him? Draco almost started to panic, his breath labouring before he remembered that his father would never know. Hell, not even Blaise nor Pansy knew so why the fuck would his father ever know? 

But Potter… God how had Draco managed to become so obsessed. It made no sense what so ever?! If it wasn’t a vampire thing? 

Draco wrinkled his nose. Nah… he thought certainly. He knew more than most of dark creatures, seeing as his father worked against them, and had never heard about a vampire that hypnotised its victims. Surely Potter as an Elder Vampire worked the same in that area? 

At the same time, excluding outer forces left the bitter knowledge that this was Draco. His own feelings that made him dream, itch and burn for the almost stranger that he’d met once. His own thoughts that made his breath hitch every time he heard a name that started with ‘P’. His own mind that longed for fangs to sink down his throat. It scared him, probably more than he allowed himself to admit. That Potter had such power over him after a half hour meeting. Sure the meeting had been… enlightening, he supposed. But it still didn’t explained why he suddenly found himself moaning Potter’s name with his dying breath in dreams. It didn’t explain why he wanted Potter to fucking claim him! Like he was something to claim?! What was he a fucking animal? 

Draco felt his mind edging towards its bursting point and he just wanted out. Out from this bed, this dorm with its suffocating air and the deafening loud sounds of snores and sleepy breaths. 

Before even Draco had time to think about what he was doing, he’d managed to throw his robe over his pyjamas and was halfway through the common room. He just needed space, somewhere to think, and right now the dorms didn’t do it for him. He briskly went through the portrait out in the dark corridors and took a deep breath.

AIR!

Draco almost felt like crying at the prospect of being out from the almost prisonlike confidence of four walls and five boys. Finally absolute quiet and isolation. 

He usually wasn’t in a very dear need of being alone, but the more he had on his mind the more kept on building until he managed to get some ‘alone time’. ‘Alone time’ to sort things out that is. Especially now when he hadn’t told neither Blaise nor Pansy about Potter and how fucked up he’d become. He silently wondered if they would be disgusted. They were after all on the wrong side of the MCE conflict, well at least Pans. 

Draco felt sudden misery dwell up inside of him. He hadn’t even thought about what would happen if his friends rejected him, hated him for what he was feeling. He hadn’t thought about it for some odd reason… but he guessed that things might turn out that way, even thought his friends had stood by him so far… who knew? Maybe they wouldn’t this time? 

Draco felt unease at the prospect and started to walk as his mind started to work thing through. He would go to the Owlery to think… Maybe stargaze a little and consider his options. Who knew, maybe this Potter phase would pass and he’d go back to normal? So after this occupation was done he’d been reunited with his father and everything would go back to how it always been. 

Something in the supposedly calming thoughts disturbed Draco greatly. Almost as if his inner being rebelled against returning to normal. 

Draco pondered his swirling thoughts and therefore almost missed the faint sound of a frightened squeal. He stopped his wandering as a slight echo moved through the empty hallways, taunting Draco with the feeling of imagination or hallucination. Had someone really screamed, Draco pondered as he took a step in the supposedly direction. Was the silent cry his imagination or had it actually happened. 

It kind of reminded him of another squeal, one made by him a week ago. His throat suddenly felt dry. His legs started to move on their own and he fell into a brisk pace as he hurried towards the source of the sound. 

He couldn’t really say what was going through his mind, but for some reason he expected Potter. Maybe the vampire had a habit of scaring people wandering the corridors at night and had hooked another student? Draco felt his pulse quicken at the prospect of seeing the vampire, even thought he’d promised himself not to mix his dreams with reality. But then again, he’d promised himself a lot of things. One was to not sneak out of bed in the middle of the night and now here he was. Running towards a sound of distress with the burning wish of seeing Potter. 

He really shouldn’t be wishing to see Potter.

Draco almost sprinted down the corridor, took a left, then a sharp right, keeping straight ahead and there just around next corner… Draco rounded said corner and froze. 

That... was not Potter.

Draco felt his eyes grow big and a funny feeling was suddenly growing inside his stomach. He guessed that he could compare the strange sensation to falling. In any case, the feeling wasn’t a good one and the unease that rapidly bloomed in his mind felt almost suffocating. Not good, Draco’s dim thoughts supplied as his hands started to shake in what he imagined was fear. Right now he was too lost in the adrenaline rush to notice the terror that was probably clawing at his insides. 

In front of him stood a large man. A man that Draco had completely forgotten about since his encounter with Potter. Come to think of it, a lot of things had been forgotten since Potter came into the picture. Important stuff like that his last name was Malfoy, his friends’ reaction to the truth and that on this school Greyback was still roaming around. 

Because he was roaming around, and the evidence were in plain sight in front of him. 

In front of him was the back of Greyback, the man unnatural large with hands posed as claws at his sides. But what caught Draco’s eye was what was in front of him. A firstie, Gryffindor.

What the fuck was a firstie doing up and about in the middle of the night?! Sure sixth years might stroll around against better judgement, but a firstie? Really? 

Draco felt a large lump in his throat as he saw the little girl, Christ she couldn’t be taller than four feet. She had large brown eyes that matched her hair and a too big robe, probably a second hand, and of course she was a Gryffindor. Draco didn’t feel surprised at the last discovery even as his whole being screamed to flee, fight, get a professor or just do something. 

“I swear it was a bet”, the girl said with a trembling voice as she stared up at the man in front of her. “It was Horan, he made me do it”, she almost sobbed.

Greyback just stared down at her, as his back were turned to Draco he couldn’t see the werewolf’s expression but he was pretty sure it was a frightening one. Probably a smile that showed off his yellowed teeths and amber eyes. 

Potter had white teeths, his brain supplied for no fucking reason. Draco almost let out a groan, but was interrupted by the low voice of Greyback. 

“Didn’t you know that it’s not allowed for students to be out walking at night”, the wolf purred with a mocking voice. The rasping sound made goose bumps erupt on Draco’s skin as he started to think through his opportunities. It was a miracle that Greyback hadn’t noticed him already, but the again the wolf was preoccupied. 

“Yes, yes I know”, the girl said with a trembling voice. “I won’t do it again, promise. Please just let me go back to the tower and I swear I won’t ever-”

“But I can’t just let you go back”, Greyback interrupted with a sickening chuckle. “If you break the rules you have to be punished.”

Draco could only watch with a sick feeling how Greyback took a step closer to the firstie that pressed herself against the wall with a heaving chest. “Please, I’m sorry”, she said with tears and snot traveling down her face, her eyes big and frightened. “I won’t do it again, please mister.”

Greyback only chuckled and Draco felt himself spring into action before even realising what he’d done.

“Hey”, he found himself shouting as he walked towards the werewolf in a brisk pace. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

The wolf had stopped advancing towards the shaking firstie and turned slowly towards Draco. Fuck, Draco thought as he saw the wolf up close. His face was full of scars, his eyes gleamed in the moonlight and his mouth was opened in an irritated gesture that showed of canine teeths. Draco swallowed. 

“Who are you”, Greyback said with a rumbling voice that almost made Draco stumble in its rawness. He tried to hide his terror under a confident façade, thanking the lord that he’d mastered the Malfoy mask at the age of six. He strode towards the bloodthirsty monster and cocked his head with a thoughtful expression. 

“I’m a sixth year prefect and I’m wondering what you’re doing with that fist year,” he said with as much authority that he could muster. 

Greyback only stared back at him with narrowed eyes as the first year was quietly sobbing behind him. “Prefect”, Greyback mumbled and took a step away from the crying girl. That’s good, Draco thought while the rest of him screamed: “FLEE”, because a step away had also meant a step closer to him. Greyback took another step closer to Draco and let out a low rumble that made the hairs stand up in Draco’s neck. 

He tried not to think about the stories about rape and maiming or, god forbid, cannibalism. Draco tried with all his might to appear confident as he raised his wand towards the approaching beast with a steady hand. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Draco asked with a cool voice even thought his insides shrieked. He wished that the firstie would go away, but so far she’d only backed up towards the wall and cried. Run you Gryffindor idiot, he thought with a twitch of annoyance. Couldn’t she see that he took the hit for her, what good would it do if she didn’t have any flight instincts? I’m sacrificing myself in vain, Draco thought as Greyback stepped closer once again. 

“I repeat”, Draco said as he cursed his hand for trembling slightly. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

Greyback only smiled a chilling smile and stepped even closer, his hands closing and opening with twitchy movements. Like he couldn’t wait to have them around Draco’s throat and squeeze until the annoying prefect died. 

“If you get any closer I will curse you”, Draco said and pointed his wand towards Greyback’s chest with sure movements. 

Greyback only looked at him amused. “I’m going to enjoy tearing you apart.” He said with a casual voice.

Draco heard himself let out a distressed sound against his will as he took a step back from the werewolf. Greyback only followed with calm movements, taking his time. 

“You will do no such thing”, Draco said with a trembling voice, his Malfoy mask falling faster than a tree struck by lightening. 

“Oh but I think I will”, Greyback took another step. 

Draco felt his insides do a frightening clench at the thought that; yes he will and no ones going to stop him. He opened his mouth with the intention of a witty reply or maybe to indication of a curse, but what came out was instead a desperate cry for help.

“POTTER YOU STUPID VAMPIRE, KEEP YOUR DOGS IN A LEACH-”

Greyback was on him in a millisecond, cutting off his scream with a hard backhand that sent him towards the floor with a loud thud. He felt groggy as a heavy weight settled on top of him. 

“Stupid, stupid idiot”, Greyback growled in his face and proceeded with dealing another backhand to Draco’s face. Draco felt his head pound where it had hit the floor and his cheeks burned from the hits. He was pretty sure he saw stars. 

Draco clenched his hand and realised that he’d dropped his wand. Maybe I’ll die tonight, he thought with a sudden panic erupting in his stomach. He tried to push Greyback from him with a weak shove but the wolf only laughed harshly.

When Draco tried to lift his head from the floor he was hit once again and his skull painfully collided with the stone floor, rendering his moments to zero. He breathed harshly in the cold night staring into the terrifying face a few inches above his own. 

“Tonight snake, you’re going to regret raising your wand against me.”

Draco tried to scream but Greyback quickly pressed a hard palm against his mouth. His screams were now dulled and his lips hurt from the pressure. Do I die tonight, Draco wondered in silent fear. 

“Hey Fenrir, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Greyback froze on top of Draco and his eyes widened in… fear? Draco himself could only breath as the voice made him relax instantaneous, chasing his fears away and for the first time in a week he felt that things might turn out okay. 

“Nothing Harry”, Greyback said with clear submission. “Some students were wandering the halls-”

“Yeah”, Potter’s icy voice cut through Greyback’s weak response. Draco felt a shiver run through the man on top of him. “Why don’t you just piss off right now before I do something we both regret.”

Greyback was off Draco in less than a second, and the blonde snake inhaled deeply. His body felt heavy and there was a dull pain in his face and head but right now he only felt relief. He wouldn’t die tonight; he would live fucking centuries to come and have children and grandchildren- 

Draco felt himself shake in relief and a sob shook his bruised body as his mind caught up with tonight’s events. 

Greyback was slowly retreating down the corridor, away from him and the firstie. 

“Just so you know”, Potter’s voice cut through the night air like a sharp dagger. “We’re going to talk about this later.”

Draco presumed that Greyback nodded or perhaps he simply disappeared, not that he really cared. Right now he was content with lying on the floor, happy to be alive. 

Suddenly there were cold fingers probing Draco’s cheeks and the Slytherin gratefully leaned in to the cool touch. He opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the beautiful face of Potter. 

His dreams felt like a mock to reality as Potter looked down at him with dark green eyes that shone of something akin to worry. Draco felt lightheaded and smiled at the pale vampire.

“Thank you”, he said with a hoarse voice, reaching out a hand to trail the jaw line of the vampire. Potter had, after all, a very nice jaw.

The Elder Vampire just shook his head as he continued to look at Draco with piercing eyes, his cool hands sweeping over his face in gentle movements. “You’ve hit your head”, he mumbled and swept a carful hand underneath Draco’s head. Draco groaned weakly at the gesture and clung to the hand that rested on his forehead. 

“Hurts”, he said in an admittedly whiny voice. 

“Yeah I know”, Potter replied and probed softly at the back of his head. “You have quite a bump.”

“Mm, it was the floor”, Draco mumbled and closed his eyes at the sensation of Potter’s fingers running through his hair. 

“And the bruises on your cheeks?” 

“Greyback”, Draco answered, still lost in the feel of Potter. The vampire seemed to freeze for a second as Draco mentioned the werewolf’s name, but then he resumed with checking Draco for injuries so the Slytherin couldn’t be sure. He didn’t feel like dwelling on anything at the moment so he let it go with a soft hum of appreciation when Potter placed his hand on one of Draco’s bruised cheeks. The coldness of Potter’s skin really did wonders for the heated injury and Draco felt himself slowly return from the dim high he’d been engulfed with. 

But even though Draco slowly came back to himself after the adrenaline rush of “almost dying”, he allowed himself to enjoy Potter’s care for another few moments. He didn’t really know how to greet the vampire or how to treat him. Potter had saved his life but at the same time there wasn’t supposed to be a need of ‘lifesaving’. 

Draco felt the thoughts whirl around his head, but closed his eyes for now. Because for now he would just enjoy the touch of Potter’s hands and the silence of Hogwarts at night. 

Yeah, thinking could wait. At least for a few seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ Hello! Sorry for late update!
> 
> At the moment the outside world is trying to kill me (I have allergies) so I’ve been ‘out of order’ for a couple of days. But do not fear I’m finally on the right medication and hopefully next update will arrive faster x)
> 
> Hope you liked the story so far :D  
> Leave a review if you did ;)
> 
> Otherwise have a continuing great night/day!


	4. A saviour in the night

As Draco laid on the corridor floor, his head carefully cradled by: the Rebellion leader, Elder Vampire and Almighty ruler over all vampires (aka Potter) he tried to remember his reasons for not wanting this. He was always so sure during the day that Potter was a dangerous thing but at night his rational thoughts just drifted away, being replaced by ‘not rational’ thoughts. Draco was pretty sure he was thinking ‘not rational’ thoughts right now. Seeing as he leaned into Potter’s cool touch and hummed in content. 

Potter’s hand stroked over his cheek with featherlike movements, soothing the burn of the injury but also Draco’s mind. 

Greyback had scared the living daylight out of the blonde snake and Draco was pretty sure he’d been dead if it weren’t for Potter. He could still feel the heart clenching fear that had close to choked him when Greyback had hit without a hint of hesitation. And that was without the wolf even knowing of Draco’s last name.

The Slytherin felt how his breath stuttered at the thought. 

“Hey”, a soft voice from above gently awoke him from his musings. “You’re alright?” Potter’s voice sounded so genuinely concerned and worried that Draco felt something funny gather in his eyes. His head hurt as hell and if someone would have asked him afterwards Draco would have blamed it on a “slight brain concussion”.

Because Draco started to cry.

Not cry as in silent tears sliding down a beautiful face, but rather snotty, sobbing, streaming down an ugly face, something he hadn’t done since he was six. Probably somewhere just before he’d learned how to wear the Malfoy family mask that hid ones true emotions behind a cold outer. 

But now he was once again Draco pre ‘Malfoy mask’ and was bawling his eyes out. If Draco had been in his right mind (because obviously that hit to the head had been a tad harder than expected) he would probably have been aghast with his behaviour. As it was, Potter gently moved Draco from the floor to his arms, letting the blonde’s head rest against a firm shoulder. Draco clung to Potter as he buried his face in the vampire’s neck to muffle the sobbing that shook his body. 

For at least some minute they sat there. Draco crying to his heart’s content and Potter holding him with strong arms, slowly running a calming hand over his back and mumbling reassuring words in his ear. Draco distantly wondered where Potter had learned how to sooth people. He himself had no such experience and every time Pansy came running with her mascara in ‘war painting’ style, Draco usually just made it worse. 

Potter on the other hand was a master in the trade. Draco felt calmer and his sobs had now been reduced to silent whimpers under the vampire’s care.

But the almost tender moment between Potter and Draco was suddenly disrupted as the Slytherin remembered why he’d faced down Greyback in the first place. 

“The girl”, Draco suddenly exclaimed as he pushed himself from Potter’s embrace. The vampire’s hands slide off Draco’s back and settled on the blonde’s hips with light movements. Draco felt something tighten in his stomach at the movement but ignored it in favour of looking over the vampire’s shoulder. 

The girl was still here. She sat on the other side of the corridor with her knees drawn to her chin and with big tear filled eyes. Her wand was clenched tightly in her hand as small noises of distress erupted from her lips. 

“Hey”, Draco found himself saying as he started to detangle himself further from Potter. The vampire allowed the Slytherin to get up from his position on the floor but was quick to aid Draco when he started to sway. 

“Easy”, Potter mumbled with that dark silk voice as he secured Draco against him. The blonde shivered at the contact with the unearthly creature and closed his eyes at the feel. Potter’s breath played against his ear as he leaned back towards a hard chest, his mid spinning because of his earlier movement. Maybe that hit to the head really wasn’t all joking matter. 

“Spinning”, Draco managed to whisper as he saw the corridor do a slow barrel roll. He grabbed Potter’s arm that was wrapped around his torso and tried to gather his wits. Potter’s cool breath didn’t really help, more distracted. 

“We have to talk to her”, the Slytherin said again with a finality he didn’t feel. “Greyback was… harassing her…” Draco felt out of breath. Potter patted his head with gentle sweeps that calmed the blonde immensely. 

“Okay we will”, He agreed as his fingers moved over the bump on the back of Draco’s head. Draco panted lightly. 

They made their way over to the girl who stared at them as they approached. She seemed to press herself against the wall and tears ran down her face in new streams. Draco stopped a few feet in front of her with Potter at his side. 

“Hello”, he said with a cheerful voice. A pretty stupid thing when he felt anything but cheerful at the moment. The girl just watched him carefully but did not otherwise reply or move. Draco felt a cool hand drag itself through his hair as Potter still held him close, making sure he wouldn’t fall if earlier dizziness returned. “What’s your name?” Draco continued, still with that joyful voice that he supposed should be calming. Not that it seemed to be working as the girl still watched them with trembling lips, crying silently. 

At least she can cry silent, Draco thought with heated cheeks as he remembered himself doing anything but a minute ago. 

“A bit of help would be nice”, Draco mumbled to the dark creature pressing against him. Potter only chuckled quietly in the Slytherin’s ear as he maneuverer both himself and Draco so that they were kneeling in front of the girl. 

“To make us less threatening”, he explained quietly to Draco. 

“You got a lot of experience on that”, Draco replied casually even though his heart did several quicksteps with the vampire being so close.

“Yeah”, Potter’s lips brushed the shell of his ear and something clenched within Draco. “I thought you would know.”

Draco swallowed as he remembered the night a week ago. How he himself been scared out of his wits and how Potter had kept a non-threatening stance the whole time. Yeah, he supposed, he guessed that he should know. 

“Now”, Potter continued, still whispering in the blonde snake’s ear. “Now we’re going to talk to her with soft voices okay.” Draco wasn’t sure that his own voice wouldn’t tremble, so he just nodded. Potter’s lips brushed passed his ear again, but this time it seemed more deliberate, especially since he didn’t say anything while it happened. “You want to start”, the vampire asked and ran his hand down Draco’s back in a reassuring way. 

Draco nodded hesitantly and felt Potter’s hand that was placed on his hip squeeze in encouragement. Draco couldn’t supress a blush, but as he was faced away from Potter he guessed that it didn’t matter. 

He took a deep breath that pressed his back even closer into the Elder Vampire and smiled carefully towards the girl. 

“Don’t be afraid”, he started with a low voice, trying to imitate Potter’s soothing tone from earlier. “We’re not going to hurt you... He’s gone, the bad man’s gone.” Draco was unsure if he made any sense to anyone, at least the girl but he kept at it, encouraged by the cool breath in his neck. “Come here and we can go talk to a professor?”

The girl suddenly shook her head and buried her face in her knotted hands, still shaking her head. 

“That’s okay”, Draco was quick to assure her. “We can just go to your common room, we don’t need to get a professor.”

The girl nodded, still shielding her face. 

Draco suddenly got a sick feeling in his stomach. “He didn’t hurt you did he?” He asked, perhaps not so calmly as he would have liked. Potter’s hand on his back clenched slightly. 

“No”, the girl was once again shaking her head. Draco let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, thanking Merlin he’d gotten there in time. 

“Okay. So what do you say princess?” Potter’s voice vibrated right next to Draco’s ear as he spoke. “You want to return to the dorms? We can follow you there.”

The girl was once again slowly shaking her head, but looked up from her hands. “I’m not suppose to tell…” here she made a pained but firm expression and Draco had to fight the laughter from escaping. She was so loyal that she seemed more like a Hufflepuff than a Gryffindor. 

“Ah”, Potter said knowingly. “The common room is on a secret location?” 

The girl nodded vigorously. 

“Well”, Potter said and patted Draco’s head like the snake was a cat. “Luckily for you I know where the Gryffindor dorms lay. So you won’t have to spill any secrets.” The vampire winked and to Draco’s surprise the girl actually giggled. 

“Okay”, she said shyly, not all that scared anymore. 

They rose from the cold stone floor, Potter still helping Draco but also holding out his hand towards the little girl. The Gryffindor firstie took his hand with careful movements while looking rather nervous. Draco couldn’t supress a smile at the sight. 

“So princess”, Potter continued with a light voice. “What’s your name?”

“Erm…Dana.”

“Oh that’s a lovely name, isn’t that right Malfoy?” 

Draco felt himself jerk a little as his surname was said by a certain vampire but recovered quickly enough. “Yeah”, he spluttered, trying to form his mouth to a smile. “It’s really ehrm… pretty.”

The girl actually giggled at his stuttering compliment but before Draco could get mad she gave him a shy smile. “Thanks.”

Draco felt any angry remains after being giggled at disappear as he felt something clench inside of him (was this a sign of sappiness? Oh horrid thought). With a frown he pushed it away as Potter’s hand that was placed on his hip squeezed encouragingly. 

They begun to walked down the corridors, surprisingly without meeting a single professor and Dana stopped being shy in favour of showing off her Gryffindor colours. In other words she started talking, a lot. 

She told them about her parents, she was apparently muggle-born and how she’d prepare when coming to Hogwarts by reading all the assigned books. Draco wasn’t sure if he should be annoyed or adored, probably the first since he was a Slytherin after all. But something about Dana with her brown eyes and fluffy hair broke whatever defence he had around his heart and he found himself talking back. Potter did as well but seemed a bit preoccupied with thoughts and it came to rest on Draco to ask Dana the right questions. 

“So you have a sister?” He inquired as she bounced beside him, earlier encounter with Greyback seemingly forgotten. 

“Yeah, but she’s five years older than me”, she smiled and dangled her and Potter’s linked hands back and forth, imitating a swing. “She’s also a witch”, she said with a big white smile. 

Did this girl do anything else than smile?

“And you know what!” The girl exclaimed happily. “She’s also in Gryffindor!”

“What joy”, Draco replied with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Potter sniggered beside him.

“Maybe you’re friends with her?” The girl wondered loudly with big eyes. 

“Sounds unlikely.”

“You know”, the girl continued as if Draco hadn’t answered. “I’ve always heard that Slytherin is the bad house. That all who goes there are evil… But that’s not true is it? Because you’re nice”, here she pointed at Draco. “You saved me!”

“I did not”, Draco spluttered but was interrupted by Dana. 

“Did too!” 

“Hey guys”, Both of them fell silent as Potter looked them over with a bemused smile. “We’re here.”

In front of them was a portrait of a fat lady who snored undignified with a empty crystal glass in her hand. Draco felt himself sneer at the sight and wondered where exactly ‘here’ was. Did this drunken woman guard the Gryffindor common room? He hoped not. 

“Wha- she’s asleep.” Dana sounded surprised. 

“Wait is this your common room guardian?”

“Yeah… she’s usually awake thought. Sings opera a lot you know.” 

Draco did not as Dana had put it “know” but he groaned non-the less and buried his face in his hand. “A drunkard?! Seriously Dumbledore???” 

Dana screwed her face at Draco’s exclamation and was quick to defend the snoring common room guardian. “She’s not drunk! She tries to break the glass, she doesn’t drink from it!” 

“That’s what they all say”, Draco mumbled with tiredness straining his voice. His hand was held over his face graced one of his bruises and he winched slightly. Damn, he thought with even more annoyance. Blaise’s going to wonder how many times he fell out of bed or who beat him up… F-U-C-K. 

His short musing was interrupted when a cool hand pried his own hand away with careful movements. Draco felt his breath hitch as he stared up into a pale face, skin still holding a tint of bronze somehow. Potter looked at him with thoughtful eyes, as green and unyielding as ever. 

“Are you okay?” Potter’s voice was lanced with something close to worry and Draco couldn’t help but feel himself melt a little on the inside. 

“Do I look okay?”

Potter’s dark green eyes scanned his face for a few heartbeats. His mouth turned itself into a tilted smile that allowed a white fang to poke through and he-

“No.” Draco felt startled as a very much NOT dark silk voice spoke to him. “You look like shit”, a certain Gryffindor firstie concluded. 

At this the Slytherin tore his eyes away from Potter and stared down at the buzzy haired Dana who looked up at him with narrowed eyes. She pouted slightly, her lower lip sticking out and grabbed hold of the hand he’d let fallen down his side. Her palm felt surprisingly warm in the cool night and Draco couldn’t suppress a small smile. She stared up at him with big, brown deer eyes and suddenly looked guilty.

“Thank you”, she whispered. “For saving me…”

Draco had already begun to shake his head but she tugged at his arm attaining a look of determination. 

“And…” she continued with a strong voice. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to even try-”

“DANA!” 

Both Draco and Dana jerked at the voice that came from the portrait that had suddenly opened. Potter remained calm and relaxed, probably having heard the student before she’d appeared. 

“Mione”, Dana whimpered with a guilty voice. 

“Where have you been! When mum and dad hears about this-”

The witch in front of them was all too familiar to Draco. She had after all been one of his early bully victims. Back in the days when he’d been stupid enough to think that blood mattered when it came to magic. He had to his defence been rather young and grown up in an environment which had branded him with the opinions of the pure-blooded society from early years. But since the magical creatures debate had begun the blood purity one had been dropped. In one way had it united wizards under one bane, because pure-bloods seemed to rather live alongside muggle-borns than creatures. 

Draco guessed that the whole thing could be considered pretty hypocritical. 

So in front of them stood nobody less than Hermione Granger, one of the smartest witches Hogwarts had ever seen. She was also a known supporter of creature rights and despised the pure-blooded society. Not that Draco really blamed her, he as a pure-blood had been a nasty git towards her. 

Granger’s eyes soon saw past her little sister and towards her two companions. Her eyes narrowed when they swept past the trios entwined hands and she quickly snatched Dana away from them, pressing the girl behind her back. 

“What are you doing with MY little sister Malfoy”, she sneered as her eyes shot daggers towards the blonde Slytherin. 

Draco felt against his better judgment how he started to respond in the old classic way. In other words with a scowl and a leer. “Oh forgive me for keeping your family number even. Perhaps if you looked up from your books long enough you would noticed when YOUR sister sneaks out and we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“I can take care of MY sister perfectly well!”

“So that’s why I’m following her home in the middle of the bloody night!?” 

Granger didn’t retort at that. Instead she got this thoughtful look in her face as she scanned Draco over.

“Malfoy…” She started hesitantly. “Ehm… what happened to your face?”

Draco moved his hand up to cover one of the bruises, suddenly self-cautions. “Oh… ehrm nothing special.”

Granger’s eyes moved away from Draco towards the vampire behind him, her eyes widened slightly. 

“Mr… Potter?” She sounded breathless. 

Draco could almost feel the vampire smile behind him, the motion making goose bumps erupt in the blonde’s neck. 

“Yes”, the dark voice made Draco shudder in something he refused to name as it made him lean heavier against the vampire. Yearning body contact. 

“But but…” Granger watched them with big round eyes, reminding him of her little sister. “Aren’t you-”

“Yes”, Potter replayed curtly again, smile widening. Draco was almost certain that Potter only did so to show off his fangs (smug bastard) because Granger inhaled sharply and paled. 

“Oh”, was all she said, clutching Dana more firmly behind her. She might be all in for creature rights, Draco thought. But she was still right off scared when facing Potter, the presumably deadliest creature alive. Not that he held it against her, after all he’d close to fainted several times during his first encounter with the vampire. Compared to Draco, Granger took this surprisingly good. 

“He saved me Mione, don’t be mad!”

“Quiet Dan”, Granger’s voice trembled slightly despite the chiding tone. Granger let her gaze sweep over Draco and Potter, no doubt noticing the vampire’s hand that still rested on Draco’s hip and how the Slytherin leaned back towards said vampire. Her face was blank during the moments in which her brain must have worked for hundreds of miles per hour. After a few quiet seconds Granger stared at Draco once again.

“What happened?” Even thought she once again directed the question to Draco, her eyes flickered to Potter obviously expecting a coordinated answer. 

Before even Draco had begun thinking of an answer Potter responded. “It’s soon full moon. Some of my people are restless during this time.”

Granger’s eyes widened in understanding and she clutched Dana closer to her. The Gryffindor sixth year’s gaze lingered on Draco’s bruises a moment longer than necessary, curiosity clear in her eyes. 

“I see…” She answered carefully. 

“It won’t happen again.” Potter’s voice sounded cold as ice and Draco felt his neck prickle of entire different reasons. He briefly remembered Potter looking at him with hard emotionless eyes while leaning towards him. That time Draco had accidently called him a freak… This time Greyback had almost broken the truce. The blonde Slytherin felt a moment of fear at the prospect of what Potter might do. 

But just as the fear had erupted it once again disappear with a low whine from Dana. “They are nice sis I promise.”

“Yeah”, Granger said with a soft voice. “Well I’m not angry at them… You on the other hand.”

Dana let out a noise of protest peaking forth from behind her sister. “It wasn’t my fault it was that stupid Horan, he dared me!” 

“Dan it’s forbidden to walk the halls at night for a reason!” Granger suddenly turned around and kneeled in front of her little sister, grabbing the girl’s shoulders tightly. “You could have gotten seriously hurt or worse, even gotten expelled!”

“But but”, Dana had tears in her eyes. “Horan said-”

“I don’t care. And neither should you Dan. I thought you were smarter than this!” Hermione shook the little girl gently looking at her with a firm expression. Draco couldn’t help but notice the worried lines that had appeared on Granger’s forehead as the Gryffindor lectured Dana, probably a mixture of fear and guilt. 

“I- I…” Dana looked torn as she stared into her sister’s eyes her own wet from the now streaming tears. “You- you don’t understand! Nobody likes me! All because of Horan, they say that I’m a nerd and- and a teacher’s pet! And if I can’t even pass a dare why was I placed in Gryffindor! I could- couldn’t even save Blondie!” Dana was wailing as she pointed at Draco who felt something clench in his chest at the sight. 

“Blondie?” Draco sighed as he heard Potter’s amused voice rumble in his ear. 

“I don’t belong in Gryffindor!”, Dana’s body shook with heavy sobs as she tore herself out her sisters grip. “I hate you. You don’t understand! Nobody does!” 

And with that Dana sprinted through the portrait, her small body quickly disappearing behind a corner. The leftover trio stared at the spot where she’d disappeared for a few seconds, taking in what’d just happened. 

Granger was the first one to act. She rose from her kneeled position on the floor, here face tired and resigned. “Fuck”, she mumbled as she with shaking hands straightened her robe. Her breaths were unsteady and were there a trace of tears in her eyes? She looked up at them after a moment, her face apologizing. “Sorry you had to see that… She’s usually very nice-”

“We’ve all had a rough night”, Potter said simply. Granger stared at the vampire before nodding slowly.

“Yeah I guess.”

Potter’s hand tightened briefly over Draco’s hip before the rebellion leader continued. “She’s tired and so are you, things will look better in the morning.” He paused briefly. “Probably.”

Granger managed a sad smile and nodded towards them. “However it may be… Thank you for getting her back.” Here Granger hesitated before turning her eyes to meet Draco’s. “And thank you Malfoy… guess you’re not a total brat.”

“Well your sister is charming in opposite to you.”

“Malfoy-” Potter’s voice held a tint of warning and Draco felt something stir inside of him. Merlin, that voice could probably make people fall to their knees in submission, how could he sound like that..? It should be illegal really. 

“No”, Granger interrupted Draco’s musings. “She’s charming… I know I’m not- well not that.” She stared down at her feet as she muttered the sentence, her face glowing red in the dim light. “I- Uhrmg should probably go back… S’ late and all…” She turned before any of them could answer and with a final whisper of “Thanks” she disappeared. 

Draco and Potter stood silence after her department both of them thinking. Draco thought about Potter mostly. How close they stood and how that hand was leaving a burning mark on his skin with this much consistent contact. But he also thought about Dana… He’d liked her. He didn’t want her to cry or be bullied by this Horan. And Granger… Damn why couldn’t he give the girl a break? She was worried for her sister and he harassing her didn’t help.

“Malfoy”, Potter’s voice was neutral saying the simple word. Draco sighed heavily. 

“I know”, he replied to Potter’s silent disappointment. “I shouldn’t have lashed out… But fuck. This night’s been messed up.” He threw a hand over his eyes, as if trying to shield himself from the world and maybe himself. “Fuck…”

Potter’s hand was moving over his, slowly peering his fingers from the vice-like grip they held of his face. His hand grabbed a hold of his firmly as his thumb gently massaged the back of his hand. 

Was this more soothing, Draco wondered dimly however thankful for the gesture. Potter’s other hand, the one who’d been positioned on his hip for Merlin-knows-how-long, was now sliding over his lower back in an oval circle, fingers tracing strange patterns. Draco felt his headache that’d been threatening to breaking out, slowly disappearing. He groaned in appreciation. 

“Malfoy.” Was Potter’s voice sounding lower than usual? The vampire let go of his hand and a cool palm came to cradle his face. Draco leaned in without second thoughts, his mind only focusing on the feeling of calm that Potter erupted. The vampire’s fingers stroke down his cheek and Draco couldn’t supress a whimper as they slid over one of his bruises. Potter abruptly moved his fingers.

“Hey”, Draco protested with a breathy voice. “Your hands actually help.” He stared up at Potter’s face and noticed to his surprise that they were pressed chest to chest. The rebel leaders other hand was still pressing against his back, but now without the circular movement. 

Potter smirked down at him, a fang poking out. “Oh yeah…”

Draco suddenly felt mortified. “Ehrgh…” he mumbled incoherent. “They are like cold, and that’s nice against… you know bruises…” Potter was close to beaming with smugness and Draco felt himself pout without meaning to. “You really don’t need any ego boosts…” He grumbled silently. 

“But I like it when you speak about how nice my hands feel-”

“Listen here I did not-”

“Did too.”

“Are you Dana’s age? Because you sound like an eleven year old?”

Potter’s laughed startled Draco with its beauty. The vampire threw his head back and let out a rumbling sound that reminded him of chiming bells. The Slytherin stood enchanted and could just watch as Potter ran a hand through his hair while catching his breath, small shakings moving his shoulders. 

“First time I’ve been accused of being younger than I look”, Potter chuckled and pressed Draco closer. His cool breath played over Draco’s nose as he smiled at him, their faces mere inches apart. 

“Yeah”, Draco’s voice sounded strangely high-pitched as he stared at the vampire’s lips. Potter’s teeths were concealed but the mouth was crooked, showing off the remains of the laughter. Fuck he was beautiful. 

“Malfoy-”

“Draco.”

Potter looked at him, startled for a moment. “Draco?” He asked with amusement colouring his voice. The Slytherin nodded vigorously, the movement making his nose bump into Potter’s slightly. “Okay… But then you have to call me Harry.”

Draco felt his eyebrows rise. Harry seemed like such a ordinary name for this… clearly not ordinary creature. Potter or maybe Harry seemed to sense his thoughts because the vampire chuckled slightly. 

“Not what you’d expected?” He asked with a smile. 

“No.. Not really.” Draco answered honestly as he stared at Potter’s unblemished skin. “Sounds ordinary.”

“I wasn’t always extraordinary”, Harry told him with a fond look. 

“You sure about that?”

“Positively.” 

Draco pondered the new information for a few seconds, not entirely convinced with Potter’s story. Even if the vampire-curse gave a person cravings and newfound powers it usually didn’t transform his or hers personality. It didn’t make someone gain confidence or new personality traits… Draco was pretty sure that Harry had been no ordinary wizard or muggle before. He had after all defeated the last Elder Vampire. A feat deemed close to impossible. 

“Not really convinced”, Draco let out in the cool night air. “You must have been pretty lethal even then.”

Harry sighed, the air hitting Draco’s face with a soft whoosh. “So”, he said, clearly avoiding going further into the subject. “What had you presumed my first name would be?”

“Ergh”, Draco felt his mind turning. “I don’t know”, he relented with an annoyed puff. “But something like maybe Theseus, Cronus, Ares-”

“You know you just named me after a god of war-”

“Fine”, Draco felt his cheeks turn a distinct colour of red. “I don’t freaking know but not- Aurgh! Forget I said anything!” 

“Hey”, Harry caught his chin in a firm grip studying him with a bemused expression. Draco felt how his heart came to a halt at the gesture. The vampire’s smile slowly disappeared when he studied Draco, his thumb stroking over the Slytherin’s smooth skin. Draco felt how his eyes fluttered shut at the fire Harry’s thumb left in its wake. He realised how close the vampire was pressed against him and how a hand was resting against his lower back with a steady pressure. Draco’s breath turned uneven and all he could heard was his pulse pounding in his ears. Which meant that Potter- Harry probably was aware of his heart beating harder than ever before, something Draco should have found humiliating but right now didn’t. 

It all felt like too much and just when Draco thought that he might die if Harry didn’t kiss him the vampire withdrew. 

“Your head… we should get it looked at.”

Draco groaned and opened his closed eyes with a mumbling of “are you fucking serious”, heart still pounding embarrassingly loud. 

They had been about to kiss? Hadn’t they?! Or was he stupid in the head? Maybe Harry was one of those people that groped his friends and kissed them? Maybe this meant that the vampire liked him, but not LIKED him? Or did Harry hate him? You didn’t hug or sooth your enemies, right? 

Draco felt his head spin of all the questions but quickly pushed them away, not wanting to show weakness in front of the vampire. He stepped back from Harry and out of the embrace, needing the space to be able to think clearly. 

Harry held on for a millisecond or so (so short that Draco was unsure if he’d done it at all) before letting the blonde Slytherin escape his arms. His hand fell down from his face and Draco felt strangely warm without the cool touch, and not in a good way.

“No I’m fine”, Draco lied. 

“You’re not”, was Potter’s response, no trace of warmth in his voice. 

“Isn’t that up for me to decide?”

“It really isn’t.”

Draco sent a glare towards the raven-haired man in front of him. “It’s not your decision either.”

“No… but as nobody else is around I’ll take the role.”

Draco shook his head. “I’m not going to Pomfrey in the middle of the night. I’ll be put in detention and Merlin knows what else.”

“Okay… But you still need someone to look at your head.” Harry made a grab for Draco’s hand and the blonde reluctantly let him catch it. This means nothing, Draco thought silently as he stared at their intertwined fingers. He held hand with Pans all the time… and that doesn’t mean they would go shagging at the first best opportunity. 

Wait, was he thinking about shagging Pot- Harry?! Maybe that hit to the head really needed looking over.

“Okay”, Draco admitted, still watching their hands with a sinking feeling. “But who’s going to look at my head? You?” 

Harry smiled slightly at him. More a pull of the mouth than a beaming gesture of joy as he started to drag Draco down the corridor. “No”, he informed as they rounded a corner, away from Gryffindors common room. “But I know someone who can. Come on”

With that Draco found himself being dragged away by a dark creature, still unsure about their exact destination.

*

Striding down the corridor towards the east wing he knew exactly where they were going. To the MCE:s fucking head quarter. His heart drummed erratic against his ribcage, his palms were sweaty and his brain was screaming. 

“Potter, where the fuck do you think you’re taking me?”

Harry stopped his brisk walk long enough to peer back at Draco with an open expression. “I told you to call me Harry”, he pouted. 

“Yeah”, Draco answered with panic rising in his chest for every step they took. “You didn’t say that you were going to serve me as a main course to you’re damn rebellion!” 

Harry stopped his walking abruptly, making Draco crash into his back. The Slytherin gave up a breathless “Ouch” as he collided with the vampire. Harry spun around and looked at Draco with unreadable eyes. 

“You’re not going to get hurt”, he said strongly. “Why would you think you that?” 

“Harry”, Draco looked at the vampire with tired eyes. “Remember how I reacted when meeting you a week ago?”

The vampire nodded briefly. 

“Well, haven’t it occurred to you that I was actually scared?”

Potter seemed to be rolling the question inside his head for a few moments. “Yeah… but your not anymore”, he stated with finality. “You haven’t shown any signs of being afraid all evening.”

“But that’s because you’re you! And don’t come here and say I wasn’t afraid of Greyback! That fucking wolf was just about to tear me apart-”

“He wouldn’t have-”

“Don’t you fucking dare defend him.” Draco’s chest heaved as he glared at Potter with hurtful eyes. “He was about to tear me apart. He was about to enjoy craving up my chest, there’s no defending that. How do you think I would react if you shove me into a room filled with people like him? Did you think I’d walk in willingly? Happily? What’s speaking for me seeing the dawn with freaks like Greyback trying to kill me-”

“Don’t call him freak”, Potter’s eyes were hard as he stared at Draco. “Don’t you call any of us that.”

Draco could almost feel fear flaming up inside of him at Potter’s stance. His hand was still intertwined with the vampire’s but the grip had tightened a bit too much to be entirely comfortable. “But he is”, Draco persisted even though Potter flashed his fangs in annoyance. “Anyone enjoying torturing weaker, torturing fucking children, are freaks.”

“Even if the child was a centaur? A werewolf? And the torturer wizard?” Potter’s question was snarled and the vampire narrowed his eyes while looking at the blonde snake. “But we’re lesser beings aren’t we. And those are okay to hurt-”

“No”, Draco was firm while uttering the word. “It’s never okay to hurt for sick pleasure.”

Potter’s or maybe Harry’s (Draco was confused about what he should call the raven haired creature) hand loosened around his and the Slytherin gratefully felt blood return to his fingers. They stood silent for a while, Harry’s anger slowly melting off and Draco’s heart slowly returning to normal. 

The vampire gave a long sigh. “Listen Draco”, Potter’s voice sounded tired. “I don’t know a lot about you. I do know where Malfoys stand in the ‘Creature Rights’ debate, but I don’t know you.” Harry took a step closer to him and one of his hands gently stroke down the side of his face. “But there’s just something about you”, it was more a mutter than an actual sentence. Draco just breathed silently.

“I can’t afford to think about anything else than the MCE right now”, Harry said more loudly as if trying to drown out the words he’d said before these. “We’re just like you in many ways. We think, talk, feel and have dreams. We’re also very different. Some more than others. But you wouldn’t judge a person who comes from India right?”

Draco furrowed his brows. “India?”

Harry smirked. “Bear with me for a second.”

“Hm.”

The vampire continued without acknowledging Draco’s impartial answer. “If someone came to Hogwarts from India would you kill him or hate him?”

Harry looked at him expectantly obviously waiting for an answer. Draco wasn’t sure where the vampire was going with this, but played along non-the less. “No why would I?” 

“But he doesn’t believe in what you believe nor does he look like you or other English men. He doesn’t know your customs, he probably have different morals and might or might not know your language...” 

Harry looked at him intensely while talking, as if expecting Draco to do something. Draco didn’t know what this “something” might be, so he held still. 

“… Would you hate him for being different?” 

“No”, Draco said slowly. “People are allowed to be different-”

“Even cursed ones?”

“If they’re still people.”

“So”, here Harry leaned forward until there were only inches between their faces. “What do you classify as people?”

Draco felt uncomfortable warm in the cold night as Harry’s green eyes locked with his grey ones. Waiting for the blonde’s answer with the patience of an unmoving mountain. Draco’s mind felt sluggish as he tried to find something that answered the vampire’s question. He finally knew what the vampire meant with his reference but Draco was unsure if it were that simple. Creatures posed as danger to others, they lacked something humans did… they lacked “…Empathy.”

Harry cocked his head to the right as Draco’s word left his lips. “Empathy?” The vampire repeated. 

Draco swallowed. “Yeah, compassion and empathy is what makes us people. The ability to care for strangers and animals. To care beyond ourselves…”

Harry stared at him with- was that admiration? If not it was at least appreciation. Draco didn’t know what he’d done but guessed that his answer must have been somewhat appropriate. 

“I liked that answer. Most people start going on about intelligence right away, which is -I suppose- part of it all but far from what makes someone a person. I mean whom would you like more? A cold, calculating genius or a heartfelt fool.”

Draco almost whispered back, “The fool. But I would probably have bigger use for the genius…”

“Sure”, Harry amended. “But you would never love the genius, perhaps not even like him. The fool on the other hand… You would die for the fool.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You would.” The vampire’s comeback didn’t leave any room for questioning and Draco kept quiet. “Because love is what makes us people and we would die for those we love. Now tell me Draco…”, Harry stared at him with a shine to his eyes. “…Who are you to judge if someone is a person.”

Harry turned abruptly away from Draco, his hand still holding onto the blondes, tugging him to come along. The Slytherin stumbled as they started to walk down the corridor once again in a brisk pace. 

“You’ll see when you meet the others if we have any empathy or not. If we’re people.”

Draco didn’t know what to say as he let himself be pulled towards the east wing, his heart still hammering but now more in nervousness rather than fear. Sure he hadn’t really spoken to any creatures except the vampire and (urgh) Greyback but still… He’d grown up with tales of what different creatures did to those who walked into their territory or broke their rules. They weren’t people they were dangerous, wild and all through in need of control. What would happen if Harry hadn’t been there to stop Greyback? What would happen if the creature-act got through?

Harry dragged him around a corner and before Draco had time to think anymore on what exactly qualified a person and a creature they stood in front of a large portrait. 

The painting was a grand centaur in armour and with a lance in his hand. He appeared to be posing in front of a tournament with different centaur-knights running around in the background. He stared down at Draco and Harry with watchful eyes. 

“I’ve never seen east wing like this before”, Draco whispered to the vampire. And he really hadn’t. Usually there was a staircase here, but now there was a simple stonewall with a painting on.

“Dumbledore rearranged so that no student’s would accidently wander in to our quarters.”

“Oh”, Draco said with a raised eyebrow. “Scared of what might happen to the students?”

“In terms of a heart attack or dying of fear then yes”, Harry replied with a dry voice. 

“Oh”, Draco repeated staring up at the large horse-man in front of them.

“We’re not animals.”

“Never said you were.”

“Yeah?”

“But”, Draco concluded. “Neither are you human.”

“But we’re still people… In the same way that you and a man from India are human. It’s the same.”

Draco didn’t necessary agree with Harry’s perspective. The feeling of Greyback’s weight on top of him still fresh in his mind. But he would rest his case for now, he wanted to be on the vampire’s good side if they were going to enter the MCE:s headquarter. Just in case someone else recognised him as a Malfoy and wanted to claim revenge. Especially if Greyback was there and realised just who he was. 

“Will Greyback be there…” Draco asked, cursing his weak-sounding voice. 

Harry’s hand squeezed his briefly. “No.”

The Slytherin nodded, grounding himself in the cool feel of the vampire’s hand in his. Perhaps he could do this if Harry were by his side, what was hundreds of creatures against the single most powerful entity on the planet? 

So Draco took a deep breath as the rebellion leader whispered the password: “In favorem libertatis” and the painting swung open. He swallowed as he saw a long staircase leading up towards darkness in front of him. Horrified with what was on the other side or what MIGHT be on the other side.

Harry must have heard his quickening heart because the vampire leaned down and whispered soothingly in his ear. “Hey Draco calm down. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, promise.”

Strangely enough, those very much standard-line-words worked. Perhaps it was all part of Harry’s soothing ability? 

So with a probably straight back and a hard tug from the vampire, Draco found himself walking forward. Passing the portrait and hearing it shut behind him with a soft bang. Darkness surrounded him and the only thing that Draco could feel was Harry’s hand, clasped around his. 

Draco realised with a beating heart that there was no turning back now. Time to face my fears… Hopefully I won’t die, Draco thought darkly as they wandered up towards the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ Hello People!
> 
> I just wanted to start this AN with saying thank you so much for all support with this series! It’s such an inspiration to write when you know that there are actually people out there enjoying what you write!
> 
> Also I want to tell you guys that I’m posting this story on ff.net as well as AO3 and that I answer reviews on the later but not ff.net. So if you have a question that you really want answered PM me or ask it on AO3. But believe me I say that I read all reviews, they are (together with favs/kudos and follows) what’s keeping me fuelled x)
> 
> So that’s all for me, I will try to keep my weekly update and hopefully finish this fic before summer ends and school starts! 
> 
> Have a continuing great night/day!


	5. Among Students

They walked up the stairs for an eternity. Or at least that was how it felt to Draco. The constant feeling of yet another step in the pitch-black dark was doing nothing for his nervousness. The only thing that was remotely comfortable was Harry holding his hand, otherwise Draco might as well have been alone right now, especially since the vampire’s step were soundless. 

“Are we there soon?”

“Mm”, was the vague answer as they climbed on. 

But after another minute in the dark they were ‘there’. ‘There’ as in: in front of a large door with a big handle that seemed to hide another, chilling, world. Sure it might have been Draco’s imagination that spiced up the door’s menacing aura a bit, but he still held firm. It was a bloody intimidating door. 

“Come”, it was Harry speaking with a soft tone lancing his dark voice. Draco turned towards the source of that rumbling sound to his left where he knew Harry stood but could only see shadows. The vampire seemed close to invisible in the dim light of a few torches in an otherwise black corridor. You could see someone stand there, but it might as well be a fragment of your imagination as well as an actual person. The only solid evidence that Harry actually were there was the pale hand that was very much visible, still clasped with Draco’s. 

The Elder Vampire moved forward, if the tugging of the hand was any indication, and the grand door opened. 

The first thing Draco noticed behind the giant door was a couple of centaurs. They stood at the side of the hall talking as if nothing were out of the ordinary. As if it weren’t completely insane for two centaurs to be standing in a castle corridor speaking with quiet voices. Draco felt for a moment doubt about his mental welfare. This night might just break him. 

“Elder”, one of the centaurs had looked up and sawn Harry. The horse-man had brown hair that fell down to his jaw in soft curls, his eye’s a deep golden brown. His skin was covered in small freckles and scars, while his horse body matched the hair in colour. 

The centaur stepped forwards towards them, and Draco felt a twang of unease at the movement. He pressed closer to Harry. 

“Hello Firenze”, Harry greeted with an relaxed voice. “Everything’s all right tonight?” 

 

The centaur bowed curtly as did the other horse-man behind him before answering. “There’s an violent moon tomorrow but tonight is peaceful and without bloodshed.”

Harry nodded and smiled at the centaur. “Thank you. Don’t forget the meeting if you want to attend.”

“No Elder”, said the other horse-man as he stepped forward to stand beside his fellow kin. “We’ll be there.”

“Good.” 

And with that did Harry walk past the two centaurs, Draco being forcefully dragged along. The Slytherin looked up at the gigantic creatures that stared right back at him with thoughtful eyes. Draco felt his skin crawl and tore his gaze away from the unearthly horse-men to stare at the moving back of one Harry Potter. 

They continued down the quiet corridor. Draco’s heart jumped in his chest every time they passed a door, ready to defend himself if something were to come charging out. 

“Relax”, he heard Harry chid him from upfront. The vampire turned his head and gave Draco an amused look. “Nothings going to eat you alive.”

“Comes from the vampire.”

“Har har, you’re really funny.”

“Why do I detect a hint of sarcasm.”

“Not a hint, but rather a cake full of it that I just stuffed into your face.”

“Crude Potter”, Draco muttered. 

The vampire just shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t always be fancy talk.”

“You could try.”

“Aw, but then you wouldn’t have anything to complain about.”

“That’ll be the day.”

Harry stilled beside Draco. The Slytherin felt himself furrow his eyebrows as he stopped as well to ask what was wrong. He turned to Harry but froze when he saw the intent gaze that lingered on him.

“Harry”, Draco asked slowly. “What’s wrong-”

Draco didn’t know what hit him. One minute he was engaged in a – dared he say – playful banter with Harry to in the next moment be pressed against a wall with said vampire pressing against him. 

“Fuck Draco”, Harry said with a rough voice. Pressing closer and lightning fires in his wake. Draco’s mind was still trying to catch up with how he mere seconds ago had walked down a corridor to now be pressed against a wall… AGAIN. 

Harry’s hands stroke down from his waist to his hips in a rough movement, drawing out a moan from the Slytherin who’d started to pant. The vampire wasn’t exactly gentle, but then again Draco didn’t want walks in the moonlight or serenades. Or at least he didn’t want that right now, because all that went through his head at the moment was Harry and a desperate wish for him to press closer. 

Draco arced against the vampire as his hands grabbed hold of Harry’s broad shoulders. The vampire’s cool hands had settled on his hips in a close to painfully tight grip but Draco only wanted more. His hot breath mixed with Harry’s cold and somewhere in Draco’s head thunder rumbled. The vampire’s face was only inches away and the hands on Draco’s hips slid around the blonde to cup his arse. Draco was pretty sure he moaned again.

“Why are you so fucking perfect”, Harry whispered in his ear and pressed Draco’s hips forward so they crashed into his. The blonde whimpered at the rough contact, clutching those shoulders harder. “I could just eat you.”

Harry’s voice sent a thrill down Draco’s spine and before he knew what he’d done he’d pressed his lips against the vampire’s in a chaste kiss. Or rather it was chaste for about three seconds before the rebellion leader with a growl devoured him. Surprisingly enough Harry’s lips were as soft and pleasant as his skin. But as the vampire’s tongue licked Draco’s bottom lip in a demanding move all coherent thoughts stopped and the blonde surrendered with a whimper. 

It wasn’t like anything he’d felt before, kissing a vampire. Usually there were warmth and hot breaths mixing but this was different. Perhaps not different as in bad, no definitely not bad. It was just not like anything Draco had ever felt before. Harry’s tongue was cool, but still feeling very much alive while invading Draco’s mouth. The vampire stroked and captured the blonde like no one done before and he felt drunk on feelings. 

He didn’t know how long they stood there, pressing closely together at the side of the corridor wall. But when Draco started to feel a lack of air and Harry obviously didn’t the Slytherin managed to press forth a whining sound from the back of his throat. The vampire let go of his lips with a soft pop and Draco gasped for air. 

Harry stood pressed closely against him his forehead resting on Draco’s while the blonde’s breath slowly returned to normal. The vampire’s hands were still resting on Draco’s arse, putting up a pressure that had them pushed closely together. 

Draco felt himself flush a beat red colour as he stared into Harry’s almost black eyes that were filled with something akin to hunger. He couldn’t suppress a shiver at the sight. 

Potter was one of the most stunning things he’d seen, his dark hair framing his perfectly sculptured face with its shadowlike appearance. The vampire was clearly something from another world and even thought Draco knew close to nothing about the man, he wanted him. Merlin he wanted him. No matter what he thought during the day or what he might try to convince himself of this was the naked truth. 

He watched Harry intently as he moved his hands from the vampire’s shoulders towards his neck. Cupping its sides and fiddling with the hair in the back. Letting the dark strands curl around his fingers, marvelling at the soft feeling. 

Harry closed his eyes and seemed to melt into the gesture, sagging against Draco and pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Fuck Draco we can’t do this.”

The blonde Slytherin just continued with his antics while letting that dark voice rumble in his ears. “What do you mean?” Draco replied breathy. 

“This”, Harry just replied weakly as his hands moved up to rest on Draco’s lower back. 

“Uhu.”

“But you’re so fucking impossible to resist.”

“Must be my charming personality.”

Harry couldn’t seem to supress a snort as he let his face fall down on Draco’s shoulder. “Must be it”, he muttered. 

Draco continued with just letting his fingers run through Harry’s hair for a while, tying out tiny knots and watching the shadowlike hair against his pale hands. He tried not to think too much. 

Too soon was the vampire moving away from him, standing up properly instead of leaning against Draco. The Slytherin tried not to whimper at the loss of contact. 

Harry stared down at Draco, his hands braced against the wall on either side of Draco’s face. The Slytherin was reminded of what had happened a week ago as he stared into luminous green eyes. “So”, he said while studying Draco. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

Draco swallowed an unexpected lump in his throat as he stared right back at the vampire. “Right”, he answered albeit hesitantly. 

“I mean”, Harry said and scratched the back of his neck in a very ‘human’ motion. “Except for the obvious reasons.”

“Right.”

“You’re not- And I’m not in any position- And just fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Harry looked exhausted as he took a deep breath with closed eyes. Like he had to gather himself and think through his options, Draco just waited for the verdict. 

“Right”, the vampire said after a tense moment of silence. “You’ve hit your head pretty badly and yeah…” He pushed himself off the wall and grabbed hold of one of Draco’s hands. “Come we better get that looked at.”

So they went down the corridor without exchanging another word. Perhaps that was just as good, Draco thought as he kept his eyes glued to the vampire up front. He felt a strange ache in his chest at the moment and his mind was boarding to foggy. Draco didn’t know if he should feel relieved that their snogging session had stopped or sad that it had. Like when Harry had stated how they should ‘not do this’ and he’d felt his mind protesting. He shouldn’t be protesting…

Fuck it all, Draco thought sourly. I’ve obviously as hooked on Harry as he seems hooked on me… No use in denying it. 

The Slytherin was pretty sure that the issues with his attraction to the coldblooded creature wouldn’t be solved with that thought. But at the moment he settled for it, too tired to even try sorting out the mess in his head. 

I’ve hit my head. Of course my judgement is foggy at best. 

They passed a lot of doors Draco hadn’t seen before on their way to this ‘someone’ who were suppose to ‘look’ at his head. They also passed a lot of different people. On some you could clearly see their creature heritance on other’s they could have been ordinary wizards for all that Draco knew. It was a somehow unsettling insight. 

After walking for some minutes they arrived to a wooden oak door with a cross on. 

“This is our infirmary”, Harry informed briefly. 

“You have an infirmary?”

“Oh don’t look so surprised of course we have.” The vampire pushed open the door with a light shove, displaying a room filled with hospital beds in neat rows. The place was surprisingly crammed with creatures in the beds or simply walking around. Draco marvelled at the sight. 

Most of the creatures, because they had to undoubtedly be creatures, didn’t have any special features marking them as it. No lower bodies resembling that of a horse, no pointy ears nor claws. Actually most beings looked disturbingly like wizards milling around. Scarred wizards and ruffled wizards but wizards none the less. 

Draco let his eyes sweep over the great room, stopping to watch the few rebellions in the back that actually looked like rebellions ought to. He could spot a wood elf with dark brown hair and pointy ears bending over to look at a… was that a water nymph? There was also some pale humanoid creatures hiding in the shadows and Draco could only presume that they must be vampires. 

There was as he’d noticed a lot of activity going on. Creatures everywhere and other creatures dressed in white, which presumably was the infirmary staff. They seemed to almost float around the close to chaotic room, checking injuries while giving out potions and other medications. 

“Why is it so many people here?” Draco asked with a silent whisper to Harry. 

The vampire just raised an eyebrow before leaning down. “Didn’t you hear what I said to Dana’s sister? Tomorrow’s the full moon.”

Draco’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh”, he exhaled. 

“Yeah”, Harry confirmed. “We have a lot of wolfsbane to distribute among the werewolves. And…” He continued as something dark passed by his forest green eyes. Making the otherwise dark green appear even darker. “… We also have to secure an area for those who doesn’t want to take the potion.”

“What”, Draco felt a funny feeling in his stomach at that information. “Why wouldn’t you take the potion? I’d heard that the wolf’s mind is horrid.”

Harry just shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant way. Not that it fooled Draco; he could almost feel the tension radiating off the vampire. “Some people don’t want to supress the wolf. The lycanthrope-curse isn’t always a curse to people. Some find it a blessing.”

Draco swallowed soundly. “People like Greyback?” He asked with a tad bit too weak voice. 

“Yeah, among others.”

The blonde Slytherin nodded silently as he once again turned his gaze towards the room in front of him. He could now see that the tired, scarred creatures that could be mistaken for wizards were given potions from the healers. One woman with an ugly scar across her face took a vial from a white dressed wood elf with a tired smile. Clutching the potion close to her chest while mouthing “thank you”. 

Draco felt himself shudder. 

“Hi Potter”, a light voice suddenly sounded right next to them and Draco felt himself jerk. He turned his head towards the greeting and found himself face to face with an elf. He hadn’t even heard her arrive. But then again, the infirmary was pretty lively at the moment. 

“Hi Nemirdes”, Harry replied in a somewhat happy tone. The elf seemed to be a wood elf, and she seemed to know the Elder vampire quiet well. At least if the indication of Harry’s relaxed stance was anything to go at. 

She’s pretty, Draco thought distantly as his eyes discreetly moved over the long girls body. She was in height with Harry, which sadly meant that she was taller than him. She was also dressed in white (a healer in other words), which made her dark skin and oak brown hair appear even darker and giving a feeling of exotic. Her eyes on the other hand… 

Draco had always considered his eyes quite enchanting. Not that he liked to brag about it; it was just a simple fact. Silver grey, big and captivating. Or so had his last girlfriend said before he’d dumped her after realising he wasn’t into bookish Ravenclaws. But this elf’s eyes were out of league with anyone’s, even Harry’s. They were crystal blue (like an ice mountain’s inner core) and they shimmered, literally shimmered. Draco silently wondered if there was a real threat in those eyes. He wondered if elves could kill people’s minds just by looking at them long enough.

“So”, the elf in question said and looked at Draco with curious eyes. “What are you and your…” She raised an eyebrow and tore her gaze away from the Slytherin to stare at Harry. “…companion doing here?”

“Friend”, Harry corrected and sent Draco a lopsided smile. The Slytherin felt his cheeks heat slightly at the gesture. He guessed that you could call what they had friendship? Or could you if all you’d done since you met was to fight and make out? It wasn’t a sort of friendship Draco had experienced before, but then again… Harry had called their kiss a mistake. 

“Riiiight”, the elf replied with an ironic voice. “Friends.” 

“Nem”, Harry groaned beside Draco as the blonde Slytherin wondered if two smacks to the cheek really were worth all this? Maybe he’d rather take Blaise’s mothering than this… what ever this was? Exposure to the MCE? Snogging session with its leader? 

Well, Harry’s cool lips weren’t really something he regretted. 

But he really should. Regret that is. 

“So is he a quarter vela? Or is it another half wolf?”

Draco realised that the elf was referring to him. He started to splutter undignified. 

“Excuse me”, Draco exclaimed to the blue-eyed elf. “I’m NOT-”

“He’s a wizard”, Harry interrupted and put a stern hand on Draco’s shoulder. The Slytherin’s words subsided as the vampire’s hand slightly tightened. A warning no doubt. 

“Really”, the elf sounded surprised. “Not even a vela ancestor?” 

“Nope”, Harry smiled at her with white fangs. 

The elf seemed unfazed as she peered at a silently fuming Draco. “But he’s so pretty.”

That… had not been- wait what?!

Draco just stared dumbly at the elf in front of him, words lost to him for the moment. He didn’t really know if he should feel flattered or angry at the… what had it been? A compliment or an insult? …So he just settled for a neutral expression, looking at the dark skinned creature with a guarded expression. 

Sure he knew he looked good. But no one had really described his ‘good looks’ by calling him pretty before. Sure he’d gotten handsome and one time even beautiful but pretty…? Wasn’t that something you said to girls?

Harry jabbed him gently in the ribs a low chuckle escaping from the broad vampire. 

“Ehm…” Draco stated as he glared at Harry’s slightly shaking form. “Thanks… I guess.”

“Oh, no problem”, the elf said as she peered at Harry with a funny expression. Draco was unsure if he even wanted to know what it insinuated. 

“Right”, Draco declared in a loud voice, jabbing back at the vampire’s ribs with perhaps a bit too much force to be entirely friendly. “We’re here for a reason aren’t we?”

Harry seemed to gather himself even thought small chuckles kept escaping as he straightened up. “Indeed pretty boy”, he smiled at Draco who just glared back at him. Fuming at the vampire. 

“Greyback”, Harry begun as his smile was replaced with a serious expression. “Was having a bad pre-moon tonight. Scared some students.”

The elf looked at Harry with wary eyes before letting her gaze sweep over Draco’s bruised cheeks. Her expression hardened before she returned her attention to the vampire. “Seemed like he did more than scare.” 

“Yeah… I was close by, luckily.”

“You shouldn’t have to be ‘close by’”, the elf hissed silently and Draco felt to relieved to hear his earlier thoughts being mirrored by the healer in front of them. “Harry”, she continued. “Greyback is tipping the line all the time… You have to talk to him.”

“Yeah”, the vampire seemed to deflate. “I know but still… He can’t help who he is.”

“If he believes in this rebellion he better help who he is. We can’t afford another Diagon Alley.”

Draco kept quiet as he listened to the creatures talk. Somewhat relieved that it wasn’t common behaviour for creatures to act like Greyback. If anything, his actions seemed frowned upon by at least the healers.

“I know”, Harry seemed to give away for the elf’s intense stare. “But you know in what state we found him… Some of us have harder to forgive than others.”

“What was done to him was monstrous. But if this is going to work we have to resist punishing those who have wronged us. We want equality not war.” The elf whispered the last sentence in the teeming infirmary and Harry reluctantly nodded. 

“I know”, he replied tiredly. “I know.”

The elf stared at the vampire for a few silent heartbeats before nodding slowly. Her mirth returned to her face as she turned towards Draco with a big smile. 

“So”, she exclaimed with a laughter that could be compared to the ringing of small bells. “Let’s look you over!”

Draco found himself being forcibly dragged into the packed room of werewolves towards an unoccupied white bed. He felt a brief clench of fear inside of him as he passed the first two scarred men, but after that he was simply lost in the sea of creatures. 

There were a lot of vials and patience everywhere and he wondered how anyone could navigate through this chaos, for not even mentioning healing. A lot of people greeted Harry by calling out Elder or bow their head towards him. The vampire acknowledge most by responding with a serious nod or the occasional “may the moon be mild this month”. 

Draco thought back to when they’d met the centaurs and how the horses had predicted a ‘violent’ moon tomorrow. That Harry still wished these werewolves a mild moon only spoke of the horrors a violent moon must bring. The vampire obviously wanted to spare the wolves some of the pain by letting them live with the hope of a relatively balmy transformation. When the vampire already knew that tortures screams would fill the wing by tomorrow evening. 

The blonde Slytherin felt a sting of sympathy when he saw relieved faces clutching vials in their hands with an almost tender care. Wolfsbane appeared to be the saviour by the way the potion was carefully handled by its users. He wondered if the potion was hard to come by or why it appeared to be almost worshipped by the wolves. He knew that it kept the wolf’s mind away during the moon, even if it didn’t stop the transformation, but that it was so valued… he’d had no idea. 

He was just about to turn and ask Harry when the elf that clutched his arm close to threw him down a bed. 

“So”, she exclaimed happily as she dragged forward a tiny box filled with different potions. Her first aid kit, Draco presumed. “Let’s see… where is it.” The elf began to search among the dozen of different vials, the light clattering of glass against glass clear among the ambient murmurs of the room. 

Draco sneaked a look at Harry who stood placed beside the bed. The vampire was still exchanging greetings with people who passed by but otherwise kept his green eyes trained on Draco. The blonde Slytherin avoided his gaze in favour of staring down at his hands. He was seated on the bed with his legs dangling an inch above the floor and his hands clasped in his lap. 

This whole scenario felt sort of surreal. 

“Here it is”, the elf exclaimed as she mixed two potions together to create some sort of viscid ointment. Draco felt a bit sceptical about the whole procedure. 

“Excuse me”, he said with an uncertain voice. “But just what is that?” What he remembered had Pomfrey always mended something as simple as bruises with a spell. You usually had to have more severe injuries to need potions to fix you up. 

“This”, the elf exclaimed as her blue eyes flickered towards the violet tinted potion held in her hand. “It’s Nestad Suith.”

Draco furrowed his brows at her surprised expression. Like she considered the potion elementary and something everyone should know. Draco had, to be honest, never heard about anything even remotely to what she’d said. He didn’t even recognise the language she’d said it in. 

“What-”

“It’s elvish”, Harry interrupted before once again greet a werewolf that passed by. “Just take it.”

Draco swallowed as he turned towards the elf with a firm expression. “Nemirdes was it”, he asked while staring at the vial in her hand, slightly suspicious. 

The wood elf just smiled at him warmly, showing off pearly white teeth in even rows. “Call me Nem”, she said before carefully handing the vial over to Harry. Draco just followed the exchange with a raised eyebrow. The vampire seemed equally confused as he grabbed the potion with his right hand and a questioning look. 

“What?” He inquired as Nem started to pack her box of scattered vials. 

“It’s works as a lotion”, she said before closing the lid to the small wooden box. “You smear it on his cheeks, wait ten minutes and then Gûl! All back to normal.”

The vampire seemed to take this in with an understanding nod. “Right and why can’t you do it?”

Nem just gestured around the room, her point painfully clear. “We’re in a bit of a rush at the moment. So just do it, it’s pretty hard to mess up. I’ll come back in a quarter to look at the back of Blondie’s head?”

Harry seemed to deflate as he with a resigned nod waved at her, a clear sign of dismissal. The wood elf just giggled slightly before almost melting with the ever-moving crowd behind her, disappearing from sight. 

Draco turned around and met the green eyes that belonged to Harry, somewhat a bit hesitantly. “How did she know about my head?” He inquired while trying not to notice how close the vampire stood. Harry’s knees touching his. 

The vampire only shrugged his shoulders uncorking the vial with easy movements. “She’s been a healer her whole life… She could see a cold coming, so of course would she notice a head injury.”

“Ah”, Draco responded dumbly. A bit too distracted by Harry’s presence to really concentrate on the vampire’s answer. 

“Head up”, Harry said while leaning over Draco. The Slytherin felt a shudder at the simple command and lifted his head up to stare into the vampire’s face, hovering above his own. Harry stared at him with darkening eyes before flickering away with his eyes. He directed his gaze towards the vial in his hand, tipping it over to get some of the ointment on his fingers. Draco felt his heart slowly beat faster. 

“Hold still now”, the vampire mumbled as he pressed two cool fingers against Draco’s cheek. The Slytherin winched at the dull pain that emerged and instinctively jerked his head away from the probing fingers. 

“Ouch”, he mumbled as he felt his cheek throb where Harry had touched him. “That hurt.”

“I know”, Harry replied in that soothing voice he’d used on Draco when he’d cried. “But it’s for your own good.”

“I know”, Draco sneered. Somewhat annoyed of the vampire’s attitude and tone. He knew that this shit would hurt, his cheeks hurt, as did his head. The vampire didn’t need to spell it out that it was for his ‘own good’. He wasn’t a forth year old, just… slightly dented. 

Harry stared at him with tired eyes for about four seconds. Then he sighed and mumbled something akin to “fuck it all” and Draco’s face was suddenly held still by a strong hand cupping his jaw. He tried to move away when Harry’s fingers approached his cheek once again, but the vampire held firm. The Slytherin whined lowly in his throat as the vampire smeared the cold substance on his cheeks. 

“Can’t you do it more gently?” The Slytherin gasped after a particular hard brush.

Harry just looked down at him, badly hiding a small smile. “Sorry no can do. Nem said you had to rub it in properly.”

“No she didn’t”, Draco hissed and tried to jerk his head away from the vampire. To no avail obviously as Harry had found the perfect opportunity to use his vampire strength to his advantage. 

“But she did”, the vampire said with a very much antagonizing voice. “That hit to the head must have clouded your mind as well as your ears.”

“Clouded my- Listen here Potter-”

“Harry.”

“Well tough luck”, Draco sneered as he added another “Potter!” for empathising. “Stupid sadist. Abuses your crazy powers on innocent students.”

“Yeah my abuses are enormous. Forcing people to become healthy, oh the trauma.” Harry continued with treating Draco’s face, pressing a bit harder against the pale cheek with cool fingers. The Slytherin had a growing suspicion that the vampire was enjoying himself a little too much for this to be purely health related. 

“Is that what it’s called these days”, Draco wondered with a voice dripping of sarcasm. “And I always thought it was called torture.”

“Only if its you hurting.” Harry’s voice had grown lower and even thought they were in the middle of the infirmary with at lest half a hundred people inside, Draco only heard the smooth sound of the vampire’s voice.

“Uhu”, he found himself answering. Not a sassy comeback about vampires and pain play but instead a breathy ‘Uhu’. His cheeks had started to feel better, no thanks to the vampire’s manhandling, and the cool touch of Harry had started to feel less hurtful and more… more… of something else. 

Harry seemed to notice the blonde’s change in attitude because suddenly the playful smirk was dropped, leaving a path for hungry green eyes.

The vampire leaned closer. 

But the magic of the moment was broken by a discreet cough. Harry jerked, Draco yelped and the stranger standing next to Harry almost stumbled even thought standing still. 

Draco tore his eyes away from the dark-haired vampire with a scowl and came face to face with-

HUH?!

“Lupin”, Harry said with a surprised tone. 

“Lupin”, Draco repeated equally surprised, only he was wondering if his brain had snapped. Maybe all this hanging around magical creature took its toll on his mentality?

“Potter… Malf-” Lupin’s eyes were big as he stared at the duo in front of him. Draco placed on the hospital bed and Harry almost leaning over the blonde snake. His eyes grew even more surprised when the vampire interrupted him with slamming a hand on Lupin’s mouth, effectively shutting down any sound.

“Not here”, the vampire wheezed to the surprised professor. Lupin’s eyes flickered between the stunned Draco and the intense gaze from the Elder Vampire. 

The Professor nodded briefly. 

Draco just stared at the scarred man. His mind puzzling it all together. The clothes, the scars, how Dumbledore had managed to convince Harry about getting a new DADA professor. There hadn’t been anyone new arriving to the castle, it had been someone who’d been here the whole time, someone from the MCE. No wonder Lupin hadn’t been at the teachers table for dinner, seeing as he was a freak.

Draco did a slight wince at the thought of calling Lupin a freak. The man had been… competent in teaching. A genius in comparison to Professor Kosmachevskaia. And then he had to be one of them… A wolf no less. 

“You’re”, he breathed as he stared at the amber-eyed professor. Scolding himself for not recognising the signs earlier as he slightly shifted away from Lupin.

“Yeah…” The professor responded and gave Draco a sad smile. He seemed to shrink on the inside as he forcibly avoided looking into the blonde’s eyes. Lupin was obviously not comfortable with his lycanthrope and seemed close to ashamed as he fiddled with his hands. “Sorry that I didn’t- I mean I couldn’t…”

“Lupin graduated Hogwarts a long time ago and has finished his further education against all odds”, Harry’s eyes was unyielding as they stared at Draco. “He has every right to be here as any of us.”

“I didn’t-” Draco managed to splutter before Lupin interrupted him.

“No Harry… It’s okay.”

“It really isn’t.”

“Listen here!” Draco interrupted the two creatures before him. Satisfied when he gained their full attention. “I never said anything about Lupin being…” He made an awkward gesture over Lupin’s frame to substitute the word werewolf, wolf, or whatever they called themselves. “I’m just surprised that Hogwarts’s suddenly infiltrated by creatures, no offence. I mean…” Draco continued as he caught Lupin’s amber-eyed gaze. “…It’s just unusual you know. You’re a lot better than Professor Kosmachevskaia, not that that’s saying a lot. But you’re all right… I’ve only had you for one lesson so sure you might be terrible later on-”

“Mr Malf- ehrm Draco…” Lupin interrupted with a sincere smile lurking behind his eyes. “Thank you.”

Draco felt embarrassed all of a sudden. He scratched the back of his head, winching as he nudged the bump, before muttering “S’ no problem.” 

The professor just smiled at him anyway, eyes crinkling at the edges. Draco’s chest hurt at the sight for some odd reason. 

“Anyway”, Lupin said after a moment and looked away after a final grateful glance at Draco. “I just wanted to tell you that he’ll come to tomorrows meeting.”

Harry seemed to light up at the information. His mouth showing of his fangs in a big smile. “Really?” The vampire sounded horribly happy. 

“Yeah”, Lupin said as he dragged a tired hand through his hair. “But on the other side of course.”

“Of course”, the vampire confirmed as he continued to smile with happy eyes. Draco suddenly found his cheeks being cradled by cool hands and found a chuckling vampire mere inches from his face. “Maybe things will turn out alright after all.”

The Slytherin stared back into magnificent green eyes as the vampire laughed silently at the startled snake. 

“Alright?” Draco inquired with a raised eyebrow. “Let’s presume that means for all of us.”

“Don’t you feel alright?” Harry crooned with a laugh before rubbing Draco’s cheeks with rough thumbs. 

Draco just narrowed his eyes at the vampire. “Actually”, he said when he didn’t feel any throbbing pain in his cheeks. “I kind of do.”

“That’s because I am the best healer there is.”

Draco turned his head towards the light voice as Nem came floating out from the crowd. 

“Why, I didn’t know that elves were so timid”, Draco muttered. 

Harry just chuckled. “You have no idea.”

“Hi Rem”, the elf said towards Lupin.

“Hi”, Lupin smiled weakly at the dark skinned healer. 

“Here for the wolfsbane?”

“How did you know.” The sarcasm was literally dripping from Lupin as he grinned at the elf. 

“Oh”, Nem just shrugged her shoulders as she passed a vial over to the professor. “I call it a sixth sense.”

“Must be a creature thing”, Draco muttered as Nem narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Well, well”, she exclaimed and started to pace back and forth before Draco, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “If it isn’t Mr pale-cheeks. Do you have anything to say to your saviour?”

Draco felt his mouth turn into a smile against his will as he stared at the mirth filled elf. “Oh you’re absolutely right”, he exclaimed and transformed his face into a sincere mask with big shiny eyes. Draco turned from a triumphing Nem to an amused Harry and bowed his head in submission. “Oh you mighty saviour”, he said with a wavering voice. Managing to get a laugh from Lupin who witnessed their little showdown. “Forth saving me, a mere mortal oh thank you Elder!”

Harry chuckled lowly while Nem just snorted undignified. 

“How could a peasant like me possibly repay you”, Draco continued now leering openly towards Nem who stared at him with narrowed eyes. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game wizard”, she warned while crossing her arms over her chest. “Didn’t you have a head that needed looking over?”

Draco just threw his arms up in defeat. “Hey I just thanked my saviour as YOU if I remember correctly encouraged me to.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re an snake I’m an squirrel. You’re slippery and I’m not ect ect.” Nem took hold of Draco’s face and turned him around with steady movements. The Slytherin made a weak sound of protest as she started to probe at his bump with gentle fingers. 

The treatment took a few minutes in which Lupin and Harry started to chat about tomorrows meeting. Nem just hummed (in accordance to their conversation or not was unclear, but she hummed none the less). There seemed to be a meeting with the Minister for Magic if Draco understood the whole thing correctly. He couldn’t really understand the details, Harry and Lupin was very eluding about the whole thing really, and Draco found himself pouting at the end of his treatment. 

“There you go”, Nem exclaimed as she gently tugged Draco around. The Slytherin’s head felt lighter than ever and the dull pain that had haunted him all evening was gone. He dragged a hand through his hair to make sure. As his fingers probed the bump-spot he just felt smooth skin without a whisper of pain. 

Harry had stopped talking to Lupin at Nem’s exclamation and peered at Draco with wide eyes. “Tell me doctor”, he said in a grave voice and turned his gaze towards the wood elf. “How bad is it?”

“Fuck you”, Draco exclaimed as he with a light jump was off the bed and on the floor. 

“Crude”, Harry just replied with a smirk.

“Can’t always be fancy talk”, Draco replied with a matching smirk. Winking at the vampire before turning back towards Nem. “Thanks”, he said with a light bow. “Honestly you’re not half bad for a creature.”

The elf seemed amused as she returned his bow. “Ah, the same. You’re not so bad either, for a wizard.”

“Touché.” Draco turned away from the elf who waved at Harry and Lupin before once again being swallowed by the crowd. 

“So”, Draco stated with a surprisingly calm heart. This whole dreaded visit to the MCE hadn’t really been so bad that he’d predicted. In fact it had been almost close to enjoyable. No one had tried to eat, maim or dispose of him. He’d even had fun with the beings, like having actual, enjoyable conversations with them. 

He wondered if he should feel terrified right about now. 

“Yeah”, Harry responded, somewhat at loss. “I guess that I should walk you home?”

“A true gentleman.”

“Well yes”, Harry chuckled slightly. “Anyway, thanks Remus… For telling me and everything.”

“Anytime”, the werewolf answered with a strained smile. “I’m just glad that you’re better.” He nodded towards Draco with warmth shining from his eyes before he as well disappeared into the mass surrounding them.

Harry grabbed hold of Draco and begun to guide him out from the infirmary. The Slytherin allowed himself to be dragged out from the milling room by the vampire, steeling glances of the activity going on around him. After all, it wasn’t everyday you were positioned in the middle of the MCE rebellion. 

But all too soon were they out from the infirmary, standing in the corridor. Draco let out a deep breath. 

“I guess that’s it”, he murmured as they just stared at each other for a moment. 

Harry just looked back at him with an unreadable expression. “Guess so.”

They started to walk down the hall in silence, each one enraptured in their own thoughts. The east wing was quickly coming to an end as the duo approached the grand door before the staircase behind the portrait. Harry opened it with a silent command and they started to walk down the stairs. They were soon out from the MCE headquarter and Draco turned towards the vampire walking beside him. 

“I can manage from here.”

Harry scratched the back of his head as he looked at Draco with a steady gaze. “You sure.”

“Yeah”, Draco said with a half smile. “I’m slippery, the teachers won’t catch me.”

“Except if they do-”

“They won’t.”

“Ah…”

They fell into silence once again. Draco wondered if he should say something… or perhaps do something? Should he kiss Harry good bye? His eyes flickered to the vampire’s lips and he swallowed silently. No, the vampire had clearly called their kiss a mistake. He wouldn’t want a kiss from Draco. 

“So”, Harry pressed forward in the oppressing silence. “What did you think about them? Not so much soullessness in Nem or Remus.”

Draco smiled a crooked smile, shaking his head. “No. They weren’t… What I’d expected.”

“That’s good right?”

The Slytherin chuckled. “Very.” Draco found himself mirroring Harry’s movement and scratched the back of his head as well, a nervous gesture no doubt. “I guess you were right.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh no need to get all righteous… but yeah slightly right. Nem and Lupin is alright… Greyback on the other hand”, Draco shuddered involuntarily. “Not so alright.”

Harry just shrugged stiffly. 

“But”, Draco continued, his brain working as he spoke. “It was kind of scary how not creature-like you are.”

Harry chuckled at Draco with a dark voice. “What did you think? That there would be leashes to stop us from attacking you?”

The Slytherin felt his face grow hot. “No”, he said in a thick voice. 

“You did, didn’t you? Merlin the wizard society really is fucked up.”

“Hey”, Draco said with slight anger lancing his voice. “In third grade I was attacked by an unprovoked hippogriff. This night I was attacked by Greyback.”

“Yeah sure and have you ever been attacked by a wizard?”

Draco stilled as he furrowed his eyebrows. “No… not really.”

Harry just raised an eyebrow. “Okay but have you attacked a wizard.”

The Slytherin felt his mouth grow dry as he remembered Granger. How he’d lashed out at her, thrown jinxes her way at every possibility. He remembered how she’d looked at him with tears in her eyes when he’d mocked her with the word Mudblood. 

The vampire took Draco’s silence with a grim expression. “Yeah… well you’re not the only one thinking like that. People have easier to remember what’s good about themselves and bad about others. You’re not alone in judging people.”

“I…” the blonde just exhaled slowly, at loss of what to say. “Fuck”, he muttered after a moment of silence. “I guess you have convinced me Potter. I’ll keep an open mind about the whole business.”

The vampire only smiled at him tiredly. “One down a world left to go.”

“Oh, don’t be melodramatic”, Draco rolled his eyes. “But maybe you shouldn’t do the convincing all by yourself. You do have a rebellion at your back.”

Harry gained a thoughtful expression on his face, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “You know what… that might not be such a bad idea.”

Draco didn’t really know exactly what the vampire had come up with but shrugged none the less. “Of course it isn’t a bad idea. I came up with it.”

The raven-haired vampire beamed at him, as his brain seemingly occupied with thoughts or tactics or whatever a rebellion leader had. Harry took two quick steps closer to Draco and before the Slytherin had time to register what had happened the vampire had pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Draco felt his face grow hot as the vampire crackled with joy. 

“Oh Draco this just might work!”

Harry danced away from the stuttering Slytherin who tried to catch up to the joy filled vampire. A task close to impossible. Draco could only watch as the portrait opened to allow Harry back in to the east wing, the vampire still almost bouncing of delight. 

The vampire winked at Draco a last time before the portrait closed behind the powerful entity, cutting him off from view. 

The Slytherin had finally found his voice and murmured into the now empty corridor. “But wasn’t the kiss a mistake…?”

He shook his head, his body filled of confusion as he slowly began to make his way towards the dungeon. Perhaps he would manage to catch a few hours before dawn. 

*

“Draco, Draco!” The blonde Slytherin groaned as he awoke with to the yell sound of Blaise shouting his name in their dorm. He rolled over with a pillow pressed over his head.

Blaise jumped up on his bed and tore the pillow away, starting to hit Draco with it. “Wake up, wake up! You’re not going to believe what have happened!”

“Let me sleep”, the blonde whined as he tried to shield himself from Blaise’s vicious attacks. “Some people are trying to sleep!”

“But Draco”, Blaise had grabbed hold of his shoulders with a firm grip. “It’s happening! It’s finally happening!”

Draco who had already abandoned the idea of more sleep stared up at Blaise with annoyed eyes. “What”, he barked and shoved at Blaise’s form, but to no avail. The dark-haired Slytherin was too heavy and had the leverage. 

“The MCE is out in the corridors! They’re out from the east wing! Draco…”, Blaise framed his face with his hands. “…They’re out walking among students.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ Hello!  
> I know I’m two days late but what can I say x) life and shit’s been happening.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed your read have a continuing great night/day


	6. Grey Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ Hello! Sorry for this dreadfully late update. I just wanted to warn you before this chapter begins that the story will become slightly darker from now on. A bit of self-harm-ish in this chapter (I wouldn’t call it self-harm but… it kind of is x)). Also some violence and descriptions of it.

Draco threw himself down a chair in the library. This week had been hell. 

“Hullo.”

He looked up at the soft voice from the other side of the table, locking eyes with big brown ones. Deer eyes, as he’d come to call them in his mind.

“Hi Dana”, he managed as he with a tired exhale allowed his head to rest in his palms. 

The little Gryffindor smiled big at him as she scooted closer with her chair, her upper body hitting the table edge. Draco looked at her while his hands slowly came up to massage his temples. His earlier meeting (or rather the lack of it) with Pansy had done nothing for his already foul mode. 

“What’s been happening”, she asked, realising that Draco wasn’t really up for a friendly chatter at the moment. She was pretty perceptive for an eleven-year-old. 

Draco shrugged his shoulders indefinably. Dana probably knew a lot of what was going on; after all they had met up in the library for about a week. But this time Draco was unsure if he really should tell her about how fucked up his life had become. He’d relied on her a lot the past week since Blaise, Pansy and him officially ‘broken up’ as friends. Draco couldn’t resist narrowing his eyes at the memory. 

He shook his head a last time and forced his face to stop frowning. Dana already had shit on her table.

“Nothing much”, he answered as he raised his head from his hands, letting his forearms hit the table surface. “Just…” he drifted off momentarily searching for words that could possibly describe an ounce of his misery at the moment. “…The usual.”

It was perhaps the truth all things considered. Dana looked miserably at his behalf and the Slytherin averted his eyes for a moment. Closing them hard in a pathetic attempt to erase the memories. 

“How are you?” Draco inquired in a more natural tone – almost alert – everything to escape thinking about HIS current life. Not that it seemed to fool Dana. She just raised an eyebrow in a suspiciously ‘Malfoy-ish’ manner before shrugging her tiny shoulders. 

“The usual”, she responded challenging. Draco couldn’t supress an amused snort at her attics. “Just got tripped a multitude of times, pranked, two new detentions due to dares and-”

“Why don’t you tell anyone?” Draco interrupted. “A professor? Your head of house?”

Dana just raised her eyebrow again and damn if it didn’t make Draco feel like the dumb one, the one not getting it.

“Because”, she said as she rolled her eyes. “Who tells the teachers? That would just be stupid and cowardly.”

“Yes”, Draco nodded mockingly. “A true Gryffindor. Dumb and full of misplaced righteousness.”

“Oh yeah”, Dana gave him a scowl as she leaned over their table. Or it had become ‘their’ table this last week after meeting up here on chance and then continuing. “So I’m the coward? Why don’t you tell a teacher then?” She crossed her arms over her tiny chest. “Tell them about how Pansy and Blaise ain’t talking to you? How Mr tall-and-fanged have ignore-”

“Okay”, Draco slapped his hand over her mouth in a desperate attempt to silence her ranting. “Sorry Miss Sensitive”, he mocked before removing his hand. “If you enjoy being tripped go ahead with being brave.”

“It’s not like I enjoy it. Like you don’t enjoy being friendless-”

“I’m not friendless”, Draco hissed to the firsties face. Dana just stared up at him, unafraid. I’ve lost my touch, Draco thought sadly as he settled more comfortable in the chair. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah”, Draco said. 

“Who?”

“Why should I have to explain myself to a eleven year old brat?”

Dana just smiled at him maliciously. “Avoiding the question? That means you’re friendless.”

Draco seriously considered hexing the girl for a moment. He fingered his wand thoughtfully as he thought about jinxes that might come in handy. But as all the times when Dana stepped on his toes, he relented. With a grand exhale that made the Slytherin deflate like a balloon; he slummed back in his chair. Raising his hands in mock defeat as Dana moved around the table to sit next to him. 

“Hey”, she cooed. “You’re not friendless. See.” Here she pointed at herself while beaming. “We’re friends.”

Draco couldn’t suppress a small smile from escaping as he watched the girl beside him. He guessed that it had come to this. That his – Draco Malfoy’s – circle of friends had been decreased to one dot. This one red-golden dot called Dana Granger who was five years younger and clueless as well as smart. 

Fuck Blaise and Pansy, Draco thought with heat. And fuck Potter. He had Dana, and while that might be… rather sad it was still something.

“Yeah I guess I have an annoying Gryffindor.” He drawled with well-hidden mirth. “Whatever good she’s for on the other hand…”

“Oh”, Dana said and crossed her arms. “I have a lot of skills that are – what people would call – priceless. You on the other hand? What can you do for me?”

Draco barked out a short laughed at the impression. “I’m pretty sure that the sorting hat failed in placing you… Never seen a more clear Slytherin.”

Dana shrugged her shoulders. “How much worse would it be… really…?”

Draco dropped his smile at once at the tone and looked at the young girl with worry. This last week had taught him a lot when it came to the bushy-haired witch; one was that she hid her misery very well. Too well for Draco’s liking.

“Don’t say that…” He offered with a strained smile. “You’re only eleven and people change a lot while growing up. Maybe things get better?”

“Maybe they don’t?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Nah… You’re too smart to not make friends.” Draco patted her shoulder rather awkwardly as he continued with a grave voice. “Things will work out.”

Dana looked up at him from where she sat at his left side. “Thanks”, she gave him a shaky smile. “I think you’re friends will come back to you.”

Draco felt his earlier foul mood return. “Yeah, maybe.”

Really he knew that they wouldn’t. He knew that Blaise and Pansy was probably through with him for good. And all because of the MCE.

*

The school had naturally fallen into chaos the day when the MCE finally emerged from their quarters. Centaurs had wandered the grounds, nymphs had played around in the corridor and vampires had scouted the dungeon. Draco had been convinced that the whole school had been hours away from going mental!

Problem was he realised after half a day of being surrounded by half-humans and other beings – they hadn’t. Things had turned out rather unexpected. 

The firsties had – as the dumb children they were – started to question the nymphs. Close to ordering them to do magic, nagging at them until they’d yielded and made leaves dance around the firsties. The sight had been horrifying idyllic. 

But not only had the firsties found friends in the nymphs, older students studying astronomy had soon realised that centaurs were a great help with homework (at least when their tales agreed with the schoolbooks). The day continued and after the first tense breakfast in which Draco had repeated the mantra in his head: This will never work, this will never work! 

Things had worked. 

They had worked so well in fact that Draco later that day while striding down the corridor with Blaise had stumbled upon none the less than Nem in all her glory. She had been – at the moment – close to floating down the crowded hall, greeting awed firsties and nodding towards suspicious sixth years. She’d been just as unearthly and impudent as he remembered.

At least she’s not Potter, his brain had unhelpfully supplied.

Actually it hadn’t really crossed his mind that it could happen before it had happened. Sure he should have realised the danger with meeting someone from his nightly adventures in the plain day. But honestly he’d never considered that being greeted by the wood elf could bring such destruction to the life he was living. 

Nem hadn’t really done much. Just raised her head and smiled at him, shouting out “Hey Draco!” Sadly that had been enough. 

Blaise had immediately turned and locked eyes with him. “She knows your name”, he’d accused. “Why does she know your name?”

Draco had – momentarily stunned – just stood silent. Furrowing his brows as his mind raced for a liable explanation. They’d met earlier that day? No he’d been with Blaise since morning. She might have heard it from another student? No that seemed too unlikely since the only ones who called him by his first name was Blaise and Pansy. Nothing. Nothing! NOTHING! 

Sometimes Draco really doubted his house colours. This moment was one of those. 

Blaise had stared at him for a heartbeat or two before mumbling something about creature-lover and disappearing. 

That night had been a lonely one in the dungeon. His earlier friends didn’t speak to him or acknowledged him. Pansy hadn’t even come to him demanding an explanation or to hit him. That more than anything told him that this friendship that had lasted six years was over. All because of the MC fucking E. 

At least they hadn’t spread the word about his presumably creature loving ways to the other Slytherins. That saving grace was at least something, no matter how small. 

There had aroused rumours of course. All over the house. That Draco had seduced Pansy and then broke her heart. That he’d flirted with Blaise’s sister (Merlin he didn’t even have a sister). There was even that one rumour about Draco and Blaise’s love affair that Draco now had ended in favour of that stupid Hufflepuff Diggory. Honestly had they seen the guy? He was a freaking Hufflepuff?! All loyal and goofy. Not a single attractive attribute. 

And yes of course it was ridiculous that with Blaise being his lover as well, but he had his priorities. He’d rather have a secret affair with a fellow Slytherin than even touch a Hufflepuff that way. 

So the stupid rumours had flown wide and far, but he hadn’t cared. Not when he’d just seemingly lost his two best friends in a single day. 

Maybe that was why after an evening surrounded by silence he’d stormed off towards the library. There it would at least be natural if nobody spoke to him. So he’d avoided the open area crowded with friends studying to the more quiet corners. The one where you either sat alone or snogged your girlfriend. 

Since Draco didn’t have a girlfriend – hell he probably didn’t even have a boyfriend – he was naturally one of the loners.

He’d sneaked passed a couple of sickening couples, filing away some information when he discovered a recognisable Slytherin named Adrian Pucey who was decisively not snogging his Ravenclaw girlfriend. He realised about two milliseconds later that this information was useless, because Pansy wasn’t his friend anymore. So she wouldn’t want to hear him gossip. Talk. Or generally make any noises that could lead to the proof of him existing. 

The realisation hurt greatly. 

He found a somewhat free table in the end. Only occupied by a small brown haired girl framed by piles of books. He’d taken a seat. 

When the girl had looked up at him after hearing the slight scraping of the moving chair he’d recognised her. Red eyes and snot dripping all over, but still Dana. Still that Gryffindor girl he’d saved last night. Still the only one who could confirm that he hadn’t dreamt about Potter. Dana was before him and the rest was – as they say – history. 

*

Draco and Dana sat for a while in silence. It was comfortable in the simple way it only could be with close friends. Which was strange, Draco thought. Dana and him hadn’t known one another long enough to be considered “close” friends. But desperate times required desperate solutions, so here he was, a lone snake befriending an even loner lion. 

Dana seemed to be studying Transfiguration. He knew she’d had problem with her newest assignment. The one where she was suppose to turn a mouse into a dice. He wondered if he should offer to help her go over the wand movements but reckoned she would ask if she needed help. Dana – as Draco had come to realise – was much of a make-it-on-my-own. She rarely asked for help if it wasn’t from someone she trusted deeply, like her sister. He could only guess it was some sort of way to prove herself strong against her fellow kin. The kin that bullied her endlessly. 

He himself was staring down at a blank parchment. He was suppose to finish a Defence Against the Dark Arts essay – that Lupin had handed out – but found himself struggle to even come up with a title. 

He allowed his quill to spin between his fingers, content with wasting time. 

If it only hadn’t been for Potter, he thought as soon as his mind started to wander. If it just wasn’t for those horrible dreams that hadn’t stopped, but instead gotten worse. If it only wasn’t for Potter ignoring him. 

Because the fanged idiot had, ignored him that was. 

Three days after Blaise had broken their friendship with the mumble of “creature-lover”, Draco had stumbled upon the one creature that might have made that statement true.

It hadn’t been like the last times when it had been just them in the middle of the night. This time it had been in the corridor during dusk. Students had been walking about and so had a pack of creatures, following their dark-haired leader in a brisk pace. 

At the time Potter had been Harry in Draco’s mind. At the time he’d just expected a quick greeting or a simple nod. Just something. 

Draco had nodded. Draco had seen that Potter had seen it. Potter hadn’t responded. Draco had – as Pansy liked to put it – been heartbroken. 

Which were ridiculous, because one doesn’t get heartbroken after groping and kissing a close to stranger. But then again, a sane person wouldn’t have dreams of said stranger claiming you by ripping out your throat. And a sane person would certainly not get off on it. 

Conclusion: Draco was slipping towards a dark edge. 

Dana put away the book that her nose had close to kissed a second ago. She hummed questionably.

“Draco?” 

The blonde Slytherin looked up from the empty page before him. “Yes?”

“I don’t really get these wand movements, could you like… ergh…”

“Show you?”

“Oh don’t be so smug... But yes.”

Draco only shrugged his shoulders, even if he beamed on the inside. “Okay…” He moved closer to the girl beside him and released his own wand from its confine of his pocket. “Just do the move in a loop before swirling the to the right- Yes like that. Then add another right swirl-”

As he sat there explaining the basic about wand movements to an eleven-year-old he found himself quite comfortable. Friendless and all… He stared down at the Gryffindor beside him. …Well, almost friendless. 

*

The nights in the dungeon were horrible. Where as he earlier had sat in their common room, enjoying gossip and a friendly game of snap cards he was now sitting alone. Even though he might have been able to take a seat with some of the other boys his year – the ones he earlier hadn’t spoken to if not absolutely necessary – he just couldn’t bring himself to it. He’d forsaken his friendship with the two people that mattered. And he was in his sixth year; it seemed to be a tad bit too late to befriend anyone new. 

Not that he needed friends anyway. He was a Malfoy… and he did have Dana. 

So he suffered through the evenings and the nights. Waking up early just to avoid meeting Blaise’s silence. Just to avoid being avoided. 

This night had been like any others. First filled with loneliness and then filled with blood. Draco didn’t know what to do with Potter. He didn’t know what to think. Potter had ignored him and kissed him. Argued with him and praised him. Laughed with him and embraced him. But it seemed to be a trend spreading nowadays, a trend that without doubt was called: Ignore Draco Malfoy. 

Because Potter had ignored him. 

Draco was once again questioning the likeliness of the vampire not spotting him, but knew that he really was just making up excuses. They had locked eyes for Merlin’s sake. So maybe Potter had taken his own advice when he’d mumbled “we shouldn’t do this” right after ravaging Draco. Maybe he’d had his fun and was now content with moving on. Maybe he was going after that stupid Diggory boy as his new conquest. 

If that was the case Draco hoped that Potter bled the Hufflepuff dry. 

He also hoped that the Hufflepuff in question wouldn’t find the thing as attractive as Draco did. Otherwise the purpose of being bled dry would disappear wouldn’t it? If you enjoyed the act? No Draco wanted a bloodbath in all its glory. Preferably with matching screams of horror. 

He just couldn’t understand the hurt? The flares of possessiveness? Why was he feeling less than useless? 

He didn’t have a history with Potter. Not a long one anyway. 

But Draco put the whole thing down to loneliness. Being abandon by his friends and his supposedly snogging-partner in one week was bound to hurt. Hell he’d probably cry himself to sleep if McGonagall started to evade him in class. 

So Draco got up early. Because he couldn’t stand the silence where it once had been laughter and talk. He hadn’t really accepted Blaise’s and Pansy’s hate for him yet. Because it was hate wasn’t it? And disgust? He wondered about the time when he’d thought that the duo would accept him running off with Potter. He should have known where they stood in the question about creatures. After all they were both pure-bloods. 

Draco sneaked away from the dorm after a quick shower. It was a bit insane that his showers had been reduced from an hour to ten minutes. But there was almost like a physical phobia chasing him at the prospect of being ignored once again. 

At least I’m getting the silent treatment, that’s a good thing right? Draco thought as he passed the common room with quick steps. At least I’m not getting crowded into a corner and beaten up? But then again, if he got regular beatings, they would at least have to acknowledge him.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy!”

He froze on the spot where he’d just been about to walk through the portrait hole, one foot almost through the exit. He turned. 

There, in the middle of the otherwise empty common room stood Pansy. High red in the face and with her hands balled into fist at her sides. He believed he hadn’t seen a more beautiful and terrifying sight. 

She began to stalk towards him with menacing steps. Stomping a bit louder the closer she came. Behind her stood Blaise, his face blank. 

Draco distantly wondered how Blaise had managed to get up before him; he was usually one for sleeping in. 

“Draco Lucius Bloody MALFOY!” Pansy was bound to wake up the whole house if she continued in this volume. Still, Draco had enough of survival instincts to not point that out at the moment. 

Pansy now stood before him, her breast heaving as she narrowed her eyes at him. He wondered briefly if she would blow up and take the whole castle with her? She raised her right hand slowly while drilling her eyes into his. Draco knew what was coming and stood still as Pansy got prepared for handing out a hard smack to his face. 

Her hand fell, and Draco’s left cheek hurt. He recoiled slightly at the hard slap, but it had been nothing compared to Greyback’s. Still Pansy seemed to have worked on her wrist movement as he’d barely supressed a whimper. 

“Your stupid mudblood half-wit!” She screamed in his face. “How dare you go around and make fucking friends with the MCE? Why!? Does your father know? You’re not only putting yourself at risk by whoring yourself out to the enemy-”

She inhaled deeply before adding in a softer tone. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Draco cringed at her last words. He could take anger and resent, but Pansy’s betrayed eyes was another thing all together. He felt his heart ache at the sight. 

“It’s not like I planned for it to happen.” He admitted quietly as his two former friends stared at him with accusing eyes. “It’s not like I want it…”

Lies. He wanted it so bad he’d let Potter slit his throat. 

“…Or at least in the beginning”, he mumbled. Draco decided he wouldn’t lie to gain their favour, he owned them the truth. 

Blaise stepped forth from behind a boiling Pansy who seemed to have been rendered mute by pure fury. 

“Draco, what the hell happened? Why didn’t you come to us?”

“Because you would have resented me when you found out! Just like you do now!”

“Fucking hell Draco”, Blaise actually hissed to his face. “You didn’t even try to explain anything to us, even when we stopped talking to you. Do we mean so little to you?”

“What”, Draco felt himself grow slightly annoyed at Blaise’s cryptic words. “You weren’t talking to me remember? How the fuck was I supposed to explain anything to you! You didn’t want anything to do with me!” He was screaming at the end of his outburst. 

“Because you should have come crawling back begging for our forgiveness! You stupid squib”, Pansy seemed to have found her voice again. “You should have begged us to take you back you ungrateful creature-loving son of a bi-” 

“What do you mean?” Draco felt a small hope flickering inside of him. The same one that had lit when he’d heard Pansy calling his name. “You hate me, resent me?”

“The fuck is your problem?” Even though the hurtful words, Blaise’s eyes had softened when he looked at the blonde Slytherin. “Did you think we would abandon you just because you fucked up?”

Draco felt very small as he stared at the duo in front of him. “Yes”, he whispered hoarsely. “You didn’t talk to me.”

“You was suppose to come crawling back. Not go on all lone-wolf and casual.” Pansy stared at him as her now lowered voice spoke words his mind hadn’t even dared imagine. “Why is it always us coming back to you”, she ended with hurt lancing her words. “Why can’t you just forget your stupid Malfoy pride for once and beg us to take you back?”

“What? Would you take me back?” Draco chocked on the words whilst a weeks tension seemed to leave his body.

Pansy looked at him with confusion etched on her face. “What do you mean ‘would we take you back’?”

“You didn’t talk to me, you’ve never done that.”

“Draco”, Blaise suddenly sounded serious. “We’re angry at you for not telling us, we’re not walking away from you.”

Draco just stared at the friends in front of him, his turmoil of feeling being slimmed down to a single one. Relief. 

“Merlin I’m stupid”, he said and covered his face in embarrassment. That way also hiding the flow of tears that had erupted. He breathed slowly as he felt comfort in the dark enclosure of his hands. 

He jerked a bit as he felt cool hands touch his. Pansy he realised at the smoothness of her palm. She peered his hands away from his face, and Draco didn’t really have the strength to fight her. Pansy studied him as his hands were removed, no doubt noticing the tears that streamed down his face. She suddenly looked guilty. 

“Draco”, she threw her arms around him. “We thought you was just, you know… Ignoring us back because you have your stupid ideas about how Malfoy’s don’t apologize. We didn’t think about you feeling abandoned.” 

“No”, Draco hiccupped and buried his nose in Pansy’s robe. 

“Merlin it’s going to be us apologising in the end isn’t it?” Draco couldn’t help as his mouth quirked in a smile at Blaise’s exclamation. 

“Probably”, Pansy muttered as she patted Draco soothingly on the back. 

He couldn’t help but cry a little louder to add to the drama. Pansy sighed. Blaise sighed. Draco smiled into Pansy’s shoulder as the soft material of her robe absorbed his tears. 

“Sorry Draco.” They sounded in union. Draco felt happy.

He rose from Pansy’s shoulder with a smile in place. Blaise just dragged a tired hand over his face while muttering something about him being a “manipulating bastard”. Pansy just glowered at him before jabbing him gently in the ribs. 

Before they exited the common room Draco pulled at both Pansy’s and Blaise’s robes, gaining their attention. 

“Honestly”, he said with a serious face. “I missed you guys a lot.”

Blaise looked a bit embarrassed and Pansy likewise. “Stop being such a Hufflepuff”, Blaise muttered but slung an arm around Draco’s shoulders anyway. “Let’s just have a quiet breakfast where you”, here he pointed a finger in Draco’s chest. “Tell us everything about your friends in the MCE. I’m sure there are A LOT to tell.”

“Ehm…” Draco muttered weakly. “Not really much, no.”

“Draco”, Pansy had started to walk on his other side and her voice was dangerously sweet. “I’m not sure there’s a lot to tell, I’m certain of it.”

“Right”, the blonde muttered weakly, knowing that he wasn’t about to escape this one. A breakfast interrogation was – as muggles said – coming right up.

*

Draco felt close to dying of exhaustion as he almost fell into his chair in the DADA classroom. The breakfast had been… intense. 

He’d almost told Blaise and Pansy the whole thing. Almost. He’d told them about meeting Potter and chatting with him, about how he’d been attacked by Greyback and saved. How he’d been healed in the MCE headquarters and before that escorting Dana. What he on the other hand hadn’t told them about was his and Potter’s personal business. Which perhaps wasn’t even a thing anymore, probably wasn’t. 

He didn’t want to go into details about how he dreamed every night about the vampire or about how good the dark-haired man had been at kissing. No they certainly didn’t need to know about that. 

Another thing he’d kept secret had been Lupin’s lycanthrope-curse. The man was a teacher and was likely to ‘come out’ about his true nature. After all, there had been a week of creatures walking the halls and so far nobody had killed one another. 

Strange really. It almost made Draco believe for a moment that this Magical Creatures Equality Act just might work. If just the ministry could look past them occupying the school where close to all wizard children of Great Britain was placed in.

But the true question was if Draco wanted this to work. For some weeks ago, he would have said no. Now on the other hand, after meeting Nem and Lupin (Potter didn’t count the bastard) he wasn’t so sure. His dad would probably be horrified with this new development in his supposedly heirs mind, but honestly how bad could it be? Sure it were madmen among the rebels, but then again, so were it in the wizard society. 

He twitched a little when he heard a door open at the front of the classroom. Out came Lupin, looking worse for wear, his eyes tired and his hands slightly shaking. The full moon, Draco thought knowingly. Lupin had taken the potion wolfsbane – which Nem had been handing out to control the werewolves mind – but the draught didn’t seem to make the transformation any less painful. At least not judging from the DADA teacher’s tired state. 

“Oh hello Malfoy”, the wolf greeted as he saw the lone Slytherin. “You’re early.”

“Yeah”, Draco replied with a big yawn. “Had to be alone for a little while. My breakfast conversation was rather intense.”

“Oh?” Lupin replied in a relaxed tone. 

“Yeah, so I’m recovering here.” 

The werewolf gave him a knowing smile as he took a seat behind the desk in the front of the classroom. Starting to brows through some piles of paper in front of him. 

Lupin had grown into the teacher role nice Draco noted as he watched the man in front of him. He wasn’t very nervous anymore, was always mindful of his students and always had a wicked sense of humour. If Draco hadn’t been a Slytherin he might even openly declare Lupin one of the greater teachers in the school. But since he was a snake, he’d just have to do with talking to Blaise and Pans. His friends. 

“What’s up with you otherwise?” Draco said after some moments of silence. “Any new essays to write?”

Lupin smiled. “No sorry, you have to hand in your current one on Monday next week before I give you any new. How come? Are you already done?”

Draco thought back about the blank page that currently rested in his bag and shrugged his shoulders. “Please, I was done with that two days ago.”

“Oh really.”

“Oh yes”, Draco lied with ease. 

Lupin just shook his head. Like he knew exactly what Draco was doing. Maybe, the Slytherin thought. Lupin had turned out a little too good a teacher. 

“Heard anything about Potter?” Draco asked casually. His heart didn’t race, and his hands didn’t sweat and he did not really care about the answer. Or so he tried to tell himself as he kept his face blank of any emotions. 

Lupin as the too-perceptive-teacher he was, just gave Draco a long gaze. Filled with compassion and understanding which the Slytherin promptly ignored. He didn’t want pity. He just wanted to know a little about Potter. 

“He’s fine.” Lupin said after studying Draco. “Just very much going on right now… Thing’s are kicking off with the ministry and there’s a lot of meetings-”

“Are they discussing the Act again?” Draco interrupted. 

“I wouldn’t say they have come that far. There’s the little issue of us occupying Hogwarts that’s being worked through.”

“Right… So how long will this school be under occupation?”

Lupin shrugged his shoulders. “Depends on how long it takes for the ministry to get the home-guard wizards under control.” 

“Another year perhaps?” Draco concluded all innocently. 

Lupin couldn’t conceal a huge grin as he shrugged his shoulders once again. “Something like that.”

Draco pondered the situation slightly. He didn’t want to give the MCE any idea that transformed their rebellion to a terrorist group but he was curious. “Why”, Draco asked with sudden seriousness. “Don’t you just use the children as hostage?”

Lupin spluttered at the frank question. “Ergh… but we kind of do.”

“No you don’t. You know what I mean.”

“Why we don’t use or opponents children as hostages to make them vote in our favour?”

“Yeah.”

Lupin seemed to think the question through for a moment. “Because then this”, he gestured to the room, but Draco suspected he meant the MCE. “Would be false. We would be another terrorist group that used forbidden methods to gain our goals. We don’t want that.” Lupin tapped his finger against his cheek thoughtfully. “Draco”, he then said with a serious voice. “Did you know about the creature right rebellions before us?”

The Slytherin furrowed his brows. “Other rebellions?”

“Yes, you didn’t think we were the first rebellion consisting of magical creatures?”

“Ehrm-”

“Because then you’re wrong. There have been numerous gatherings of magical beasts that have fought for equality. All have – as I suspect you’ve figured out – failed. But this one is not like the other ones.”

Draco listened with an alert mind. Wondering why he hadn’t heard about this ever before?

“We”, Lupin did that gesture towards the room again. “Do not use means of violence if not absolutely necessary. We believe in not just equality but also in peace. There’s very few ways to achieve lasting changes with the help of violence… but common sense on the other hand-”

“But”, Draco couldn’t help interrupt. “In Diagon Alley? A wizard was killed.”

“Yeah”, Lupin’s eyes darkened. “We don’t really know anything about what happen except for the wizard witnesses. No one in our ranks have taken responsibility of the attack-”

“Murder”, Draco corrected. 

“Murder”, Lupin agreed. 

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Blaise stuck in his head while Draco hid his in his hands.

“Professor we just wondered if you had seen-” the abrupt end of the sentence could only be from Blaise spotting Draco in the front row. “Oh”, he heard Blaise say as heavy steps approached him from behind. “Never mind. PANS!”

“You found him?” Draco heard Pansy’s voice at the door at the same time as a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. 

“Oh yes”, Blaise close to purred in Draco’s ear. The blonde Slytherin momentarily wondered if fleeing from breakfast was a bad decision? Probably, was his conclusion. 

“Ah, youth”, Lupin murmured from the front as a wave of Gryffindor students began filling the room. Draco was just trying to stay alive as Pansy chided him with a loud voice in front of the lions. Blaise just looked smug, the bastard. 

But still Draco thought with a small quirk of his lips. It felt good be nagged at once again. 

*

He survived the DADA lesson by distracting Pansy with the mention of Adrian Pucey and his less than faithful ways. Blaise had made an attempt to put her on the right track once again but to no avail. Draco had won this round.

The rest of the day had passed without much happening. He’d readjusted to having friends again and simply enjoyed life. Even his problems with Potter didn’t seem so bad anymore. 

Or they wouldn’t seem so bad anymore if it weren’t for his damn dreams. 

And of course, since his day had actually turned out okay his night naturally wouldn’t. It wouldn’t do to let him at least have one nights piece of mind would it?! He awoke with an embarrassing loud moan and thanked his new habit of putting up silencing charms every evening. 

The only difference this night was that when he woke up, his neck hurt like hell. Draco graced his neck with a careful hand and winched of the pain that greeted him.

“Fuck”, he mumbled sleepily and rolled out of his bed. The others around him seemed to be deep asleep; the clock was likely to be around three o’clock in the morning. He dragged his feet behind him as he stumbled into the bathroom with a yawn. It really didn’t do to be this tired when his neck was raw and bleeding, and that badly according to his sensitive fingers. 

He managed to turn on the light and looked into one of the big mirrors over the sinks. 

What in the bloody hell!

Bloody was a pretty good word to describe the situation. Half of his neck was a mess, sticky and red all over. He looked down at his right hand and almost puked at the sick sight that greeted him. His fingers were covered in blood, as if he’d scratched his neck raw by himself. When haunted eyes met him in the mirror he wondered if he had? 

He began to wash his hand. The one covered in blood. The hardest part was to get his fingernails clean; there were small pieces of skin stuck underneath them. 

Then he washed his neck, carefully and with sharp inhales every time the water met flesh. 

Then he undressed, throwing away his bloodied nightclothes in disgust. 

Then he showered. 

When it were no more Thens to do. He slid down a wall, shaking and breathing hard. His fingers trembled and there seemed to be a hole in his stomach. A hole that made all his emotions disappear. Perhaps traveling to an alternative dimension? A dimension where he didn’t wake up with blood running down his throat because of a dream.

“What is wrong with me”, Draco asked the air as he shivered on the tiled floor. “What is fucking wrong with me…” He hit himself in the head. Once. Twice. He wondered if it would help? His breath came out in small puffs and he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t fucking BREATHE! 

“What’s wrong with me?!” He ignored the wheezing sound that escaped his windpipe and rose from the floor. He needed to find someone that could help. Potter? Or maybe Lupin? Lupin could get him to Potter, Lupin would care. 

Draco went back into the bedroom and slipped on some clothes. His neck wound was still bleeding lightly but he didn’t have the time to fix it. I got to find Lupin he thought fervently. 

He tugged on some shoes before taking off in a great speed. Running through the common room and out the corridor. Luckily he didn’t meet any teachers, because he didn’t have the time or patience to deal with being stealthy right now. He ran up the stairs from the dungeons. Through dim corridors. And then finally through the door to the DADA classroom-

Damn! Draco jerked at the door once, twice. It didn’t budge. He should have known, he thought miserably as he jerked a third time to make sure. Of course the classroom would be locked. And would Lupin even be there? He felt faint as he noticed how the wound had opened after the harsh rush through the school. I should heal it, Draco thought distantly. Only to remember that his wand was still in the bathroom in the dungeon. 

Fuck! He screamed in his mind as he heard a door open further down the corridor. 

“Draco?”

The Slytherin almost cried at the joy of seeing Lupin’s ruffled head sticking out through a door. Thank Merlin. 

“Oh bloody hell Draco”, Lupin was suddenly going towards him in a fast stride. “What happened to your neck?” The werewolf looked close to terrified as he grabbed ahold of the blonde snake and shook him gently. “Who did this to you? Was it Harry?”

Draco felt lightheaded; maybe the loss of blood had something to do with it? He really wished he had his wand. 

“Draco”, Lupin’s urgent voice brought him back to reality and he blinked confused. 

“Professor”, he muttered weakly. “I don’t feel so well.”

He felt a hand slap his face lightly. “Draco Malfoy you stay with me.” Lupin sounded close to panic as he held Draco when the blonde simply collapsed on the spot. 

“Sorry”, he mumbled again as his eyes seemed to close against his will. “Sorry… I’m just really tired.”

“Shouldn’t you let him sleep Remus?”

Draco awoke from his-close-to-slumber as an all too familiar voice sounded through the corridor. The hair on his arms stood up and he felt a rush of fear engulf him. Why was it always Greyback?

Lupin seemed to think in a similar fashion and hissed to the other wolf. “Back off Greyback.”

“No”, the voice sounded closer. “I don’t think so. You see, I just heard the name Malfoy.”

The thin but surprisingly strong arms that held Draco tightened. The Slytherin’s heart fluttered against his ribcage like a dying butterfly and he clung to Lupin’s nightgown. He knew that he was afraid, every cell in his body screamed out that very fact, but he couldn’t remember why. He was too dizzy and everything was fuzzy around the edges. Even the white clothed chest he was currently pressed against seemed blurry.

“Greyback”, Lupin had started talking again. “You leave his son out of this. He’s just a boy.”

“Is he? He looks like a man to me? At least not a child. Just like his father with that white hair and his hateful prejudgments.”

“He’s not his father-”

“He’s a threat to our cause, and you’re… Defending him?! HA!” Greyback was circling them if Lupin’s turning was anything to go at. 

“He’s hurt! And what will you accomplish with doing what?! Killing him!? Sending him back to daddy in a bag?!”

“Well there’s always that”, Greyback hissed in a menacing voice. 

“Look Fenrir”, Lupin sounded tired. “I don’t like the Malfoys either. You’re not the only one that has suffered from their hate, but this is not Lucius. This is not Narcissa.”

“No it’s their son, that devil child have been raised by two of the biggest opponents to creatures at large. How can you defend someone whose parents have killed so many innocent lives?”

“Don’t come here and say that you care about innocence Greyback”, Lupin roared with something animalistic tinting his voice. “Don’t come here and claim that you want anything for someone else than yourself!”

“Does it matter? We’ll get rid of another bane before he manages to do any harm. We’ll get rid of another Wizengamot member against our cause.”

“You’re delusional Greyback, all you want is to make Lucius suffer as he made you do!”

“Nine years Remus! Nine long fucking years! Do you know what the wolf does to you locked in a tiny room with only Dementors as company!?”

Lupin was silent as he hugged Draco closer to his body. 

“It’s a wonder I’m alive! To awake the day after the moon with no healing potion and only your worst memories as company. There were moons when I just wanted to end it all! So don’t come here and say he’s innocent, his parents have already destroyed him. He’s what? Seventeen? Sixteen? He’s almost ready to begin destroying lives-”

“Greyback”, Lupin sounded lethal while growling the name. “You took lives, that’s why you ended up in Azkaban, don’t you dare put the whole blame on the Malfoys.”

“Well, we can’t all grow up with caring parents-”

“But we can choose who we’ll become.” 

“Sometimes there’s punishment to be had for those who tortured you-”

“For Merlin’s sake Greyback! This isn’t about your bloody vendetta ten years ago!”

“No this is about hindering that happening again!”

Lupin seemed to shake his head. “You’re bloody mental! You want to kill a student and make all this that Harry have built up crumble? You want us to be hunted once again?”

“Just give me the boy Remus.”

“Don’t call me that…” Lupin clutched Draco impossible tighter, and the blonde boy could feel every vibration of Lupin’s voice through the man’s chest. “…I’m not friends with child murderers. It’s a mystery why Harry ever allowed you to join us.”

Greyback growled threateningly. “Because he’s not weak as you Lupin. He knows deep down that we’ll never be their equals. We can’t coexist! It’s either them ruling us or us ruling them!”

“FUCK YOU GREYBACK!” Lupin’s shout echoed in the silent corridor. “You don’t know shit about Harry! Nothing! You’re a psychopath! It was probably you who killed that wizard in Diagon Alley!”

“So what if it was?!” Greyback sounded awfully mad, even a slight bit crazy. “The Act would have failed in the end however the negotiation went! And see what they did after that?! Sent the home-guard at us with wands drawn-” 

Lupin was silent for a second with Draco clutched tightly against him. He then lowered the blonde Slytherin to the floor. Draco tried to stay alert as his skin prickled of the overwhelming fear when he felt cold stone underneath him. Lupin shuffled him quickly towards the wall and placed him against it with care. Draco tried to mumble a “thank you” and a “he’s wrong about me” but couldn’t manage more than a small wheeze. Lupin turned his back against him to face the gigantic man across the hallway. Greyback watched Draco with cold eyes, hate sparkling behind black irises. 

“Listen here Greyback”, Lupin stood crouched over Draco in a very canine posture. Fingers bent as claws and his back slightly hunched. He heard a low growl escaping the more wolf than man before him. 

And the schoolbooks had said that werewolves only felt the wolf once a month. 

“If you even try to touch him”, Lupin continued in a deadly voice. “I’ll do what Azkaban never managed to do to you. I’ll break you. I’ll break you apart and watch your body spasm before being reduced to a dead lump of meat.”

Greyback’s eyes seemed to gleam as he adapted a similar pose to Lupin’s. “Never knew you had it in you Lupin. If I weren’t about to behead you I would even say ‘there’s hope for you yet’. Sadly…” he said and took a step closer. “…You’re all out of hope. So don’t think about the moon when I rip you apart, because it wasn’t the moon that killed you, it was I.”

With a growl that bounced on the walls Greyback attacked. In a flash he and Lupin were spinning on the floor, animalistic sounds emerging from their entwined bodies. Draco tried to make his dizziness disappear as he watched the two werewolves fight with teeth and nails. 

I got to help Lupin, he thought dimly. He tried to move his arm but his whole body felt so, so heavy. He felt wetness sliding down his right arm, the same side on which his neck had been scratched raw. Why hadn’t he healed it when he’d had the chance?! 

He heard a shout of pain. Lupin, he noted and tried to drag himself towards the flailing limbs on the floor. Got to help Lupin, he thought as a mantra for every painful inch. There was blood on the floor and the red pool seemed to grow larger for every second. Lupin was now underneath Greyback and tried to throw the larger man off of him. But to no avail. 

Got to help Lupin. 

One inch.

Got to help Lupin.

Two inches.

Got to help Lupin.

Three inches. 

Lupin was making a screeching sound that couldn’t possibly mean any good. Greyback was laughing. 

“So weak!” Greyback exclaimed. “So frightfully weak! All because of your soft ways! Now those very ways are going to cost you your life.”

He gave Lupin’s head a heavy blow with his clenched fist. “And you want to know the best part?” He asked as he hit the professor once again, silencing Lupin’s whimpers. “When they find your dead and mangled body guess who I’ll blame? Your favourite student, Malfoy.” He laughed before in an innocent voice proclaiming. “I tried to save him but Malfoy had already killed the defenceless Lupin. To avenge him was the least I could do.” He laughed again and Draco couldn’t help but shiver at the sound. 

Got to help Lupin. 

Ten inches. 

“Now”, Greyback howled with a crackling voice. “How may hits can a werewolf take to the head before it cracks?”

The heavy thud that followed made Draco press himself harder, taking two inches at a time. 

Got to help Lupin. 

Twenty inches.

Thud.

Got to help Lupin.

Thirty inches. 

Even thought it probably only was seconds, it felt as an eternity before Draco was closing in on the fight. Lupin’s face was red and swollen, blood pouring down his face. Greyback’s fists were red and raw of the constant hitting. Not that it seemed to stop the wolf as he just laughed and punched harder. 

Is Lupin already dead? The frightful thought made Draco think clearly despite the dizziness that wanted to drown him. He looked at the scene in front of him and did a very un-Slytherin thing. He threw himself over Lupin’s face, taking Greyback’s next hit in the back. 

“Urgh”, he huffed as the heavy fist drilled itself into his spine with a heavy thud. How could Lupin’s head still be intact with force like this hammering against it? He was certain his own back would break after three punches if not less. 

The pain was unmatched in anything he’d felt before. He screamed in agony. 

Greyback didn’t descend another hit in his – probably – bruised back, but instead shoved him off Lupin and dragged Draco towards a wall. He pressed the dizzy and hurt snake against the stone with a brutal strength. 

“The Malfoy have come out to play? I was going to save you for last but since you so willingly volunteered-”

Draco’s head was spinning and his neck hurt like hell. 

“Oh”, Greyback interrupted himself by pressing a hard finger into Draco’s raw neck. He hissed in agony. “What is this?” Greyback poked again and the blonde couldn’t supress a hoarse scream. 

Greyback looked positively gleeful. 

“Looks like you already had a fight tonight. Or?” He bent forward, stopping an inch or so away from Draco’s neck. He exhaled and the… sniffed. Actually sniffed him. The whole thing felt like a sick dream, one that you didn’t wake up from. 

“No this is self-made? HA! HAHAHA!” The wolf laughed so hard he shook. “Oh, Harry always attracts the odd ones. And look what he managed to hook this time. If you weren’t going to die tonight I might have enjoyed watching you being turned into one of his bitches. HA!”

Draco shook of the words that rang in his ears. He couldn’t really focus on the exact meaning of the letters tumbling out of Greyback’s mouth. But didn’t like the sound of it. Not. One. Bit.

“Malfoy being Harry Potter’s bitch. Oh the image would have been beautiful. Too bad that won’t happen. Maybe you should thank me for killing you now? At least you haven’t disappointed daddy yet.”

Draco just stared into black irises as Greyback lifted his fisted hand. He remembered earlier that day when Pansy had done the same gesture. The irony of it all was almost physically hurting. 

He closed his eyes just before Greyback was about to punch him. He didn’t want to see death coming at him one hundred miles per hour. Then he would rather see black and imagine this was all a dream. 

But the punch never came. Instead there was a big crash and when he opened his eyes there was half a dead Lupin onto a royally pissed Greyback. Lupin must have sneaked up on the larger wolf while he mocked Draco and had now saved the Slytherin’s life. At least for the moment. 

Lupin seemed to have the leverage and was busy smashing Greyback’s face against the stone floor repeatedly. Not that it seemed to do much more than piss the other wolf off. Draco felt himself slide down the wall on wobbly legs as his mind wanted to shut down. There was black at the edges of his vision.

If I fall asleep I might never wake up. He lifted his hand and slapped it weakly across his face. Stay awake Draco, he thought and tried to move his body despite its protests. Stay awake!

Lupin was suddenly thrown away from Greyback, the wolf managing to literally throw the smaller wolf off him. Greyback rose swiftly from the ground. His face slightly bruised with small scratches covering it. 

“Oh Remus Lupin”, he growled as he neared the wolf that laid panting on the floor a few feet away. “You’re going to regret that.”

Draco watched in horror as the werewolf neared the professor that tried to struggle to his feat but without success. He watched in horror when Greyback lifted his right foot to kick Lupin straight in the face to in the next second watch… Nothing. 

There was a loud crash to the right and when Draco turned his throbbing head towards the sound he saw Greyback in a heap on the floor. The wolf seemed somewhat unharmed and laid on his side, surprise scraped on his face. 

Lupin let out a stuttering breath and took two deep gulps of air. He seemed as surprised as Greyback at the new development. But grateful none the less if the slow relaxation of his shoulders was anything to go at. 

“Greyback”, the familiar voice sent cold shivers down Draco’s spine. He turned his head towards the far end of the corridor, the end that bathed in shadows. The shadows that concealed Potter. Because Potter was here. His presence filling the air in a suffocating way and his voice making the very core inside of Draco cringe in fear. 

Still, Draco had never felt so relieved to see the Elder vampire. 

“I don’t even know if it’s worth asking what have happen. Somehow I can imagine.” 

Potter stepped forth from the shadows, his green eyes close to black and his fangs gleaming in the pale moonlight. His whole being radiated darkness and death, Draco felt for a minute doubt about Potter’s nature. He didn’t seem like a vampire at the moment. Rather something darker and more twisted. 

However it was, it made Draco’s flight instincts switch on full mode. Too bad that the Slytherin was occupied with just staying conscious. 

Potter stepped closer. 

“Harry I can explain”, Greyback didn’t seem so big all of a sudden. He visually trembled and his scarred face was wrung into a mask of panic. Draco felt the display of fear on Greyback’s behalf make himself shake in his dizzy state. Had Potter always seemed this frightening?

“Listen there was-”

Greyback didn’t even get to finish the sentence. Suddenly Potter stood inches before the wolf with a hard grip on his robe. He pressed Greyback lower with pure strength and the killer whimpered at being dominated. Potter looked down at the quivering wolf. 

“Harry please”, the wolf sobbed. The contrast between the earlier maniac and this wreck frightening in its alteration. It almost seemed like two different Greybacks. 

Potter narrowed his now completely black eyes at the wolf as the room suddenly hummed with a strange presence. The whole corridor seemed darker and the shadows danced on the wall as if they had a life on their own. Draco wished he had something to hold onto. 

The Elder vampire before him smiled a cold smile. Before shaking his head negatively. “No”, he simply said. Greyback looked resigned as he stared into deaths face with violent trembles rattling his body. For a moment there was a heavy silence but that was before Greyback began to scream. 

And what a scream. 

The sound shook Draco’s essence and his insides rebelled at the heart-wrecking sound that filled the hall. He wanted to cover his ears but found that he couldn’t. He wanted to crumble into a fertile position but couldn’t. He wanted to do many things the few seconds the scream lasted, but his injuries and exhaustion put a swift stop to it all. 

He couldn’t move or make a sound. Hell he could barely stay awake. 

Then the scream stopped as abruptly as it had started. Leaving an empty silence in its wake. 

Draco looked at Potter where he stood before a lifeless Greyback that lay on the floor. He looked down at the body with a cool indifference as he muttered strange words underneath his breath. 

Draco couldn’t supress a whimper at the strange sight. Potter’s eyes snapped up and met his for a brief second. He swallowed hard at the black orbs that seemed to stare right into his soul. Potter was suddenly moving towards him with quick steps, leaving Greyback and Lupin behind him. Draco tried to scramble away from Potter. Right now he felt strange, not like the dark-haired vampire he’d encountered in the corridor but more of a frightening stranger. One that he should stay far away from. 

It was always a possibility of death, of dying to the hands of whomever. Maybe by being pushed down the stairs, being Avada Kedavrad or simply having a slit throat. Then there was Potter. Potter who could kill you without lifting a finger. All he had to do was ‘want’ and you would be dead. Just like he’d done with Greyback. The power to kill someone by will was terrifying. Nobody should have that much power, Draco thought as the vampire approached. 

Even though Draco couldn’t coordinate his body, he did his best of what he could with powerless limbs. Which wasn’t much as he simply started to slide down from his position against the wall to one lying on the floor. Potter seemed to get the message of his fear though, because he suddenly stopped a few feet away from Draco. The Slytherin relaxed a little. 

“Draco”, Potter’s voice sounded darker than usual. Just as him himself seemed darker. The cape of shadows that clung to the vampire’s shoulders whispered words of horrors and death. Their words were ancient, but he was certain he could hear them. His heart did at any rate speed up like he’d drunken five energy draughts at once. The hallway felt cold. 

He whimpered in answer to Potter’s question. His cheek resting on the floor and eyes staring at the tall vampires feet, the feet that were accompanied with shadows and monsters. 

The feet suddenly disappeared as Potter kneeled before him, bowing his head so he could stare Draco in the eyes. His frightened grey eyes. 

“Draco”, the vampire said again in a soft voice. 

The blonde only shook his head. “Lu-Lupin” he managed to get forth in a whisper. 

Potter shook his head. “Nem is on her way”, he said in a calm tone. “She’s going to patch him up real good. He won’t have a scratch from this night on him or inside him. He’s going to be fine Draco.”

At the news that Lupin – Lupin that had fought for him with teeths and claws – would be okay he managed a small smile in his tired state. “That’s good”, Draco mumbled as he felt the black around his vision edges grow larger. “That’s good.”

His world turned black. But this time Draco wasn’t afraid of ‘not’ waking up. Lupin was okay and Potter… Well he’d think about Potter later. When his neck didn’t feel like it was on fire or when his breathing had stopped sounding like a goo factory.

Then he’d think about Potter, now he’d think about sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ Hello again! You made it through, awesome! 
> 
> I wanted to fill you guys in on some updates. As it looks now I won’t be able to finish the story completely before the summers end :’( That was – as some of you might have noticed – my goal because school will start after the break and I’ll have to study and stuff. But I’m probably going to continue this, but it will be very infrequently. I’m anyhow planning on writing at least one more part as a sort of “alternative end-ish-thingy” even if there’s much more of the story to come! 
> 
> At the moment (according to my calculations ^^) we’re about halfway through. 
> 
> That was a long AN but anyhow! I wanted to thank everyone that reviewed for pointing out my wrong-spellings in such a kind and awesome way! And especially zandi for reminding me about my duties. 
> 
> Until next time! Have a continuing great night/day!


	7. Clearing of Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ Warning before the chapter begins! This chapter contains SLASH! If you feel uncomfortable with it there’s an edited version on ff-net that takes out the worst part. Just search my author name (FangirlWolfie) or the story name (Blood bag) and you will find it.

White. That was the first thing that popped up in Draco’s mind as he stared up at white light being filtered through a grand window on the wall behind him. He was lying in a soft bed and he felt close to pain free at the moment.

What had happened?

Flashes of a mad werewolf punching Lupin bloody and the same wolf screaming in agony made his body jerk. Blood had been everywhere and he’d felt so utterly exhausted, weak and terrified. Greyback was a mad, mad man. If one could call him a man at all. 

As he remembered a menace looking Potter standing above the lifeless body of the monster he relaxed momentarily. Greyback wouldn’t harm him. 

He moved carefully in the bed, stretching his rigid limbs with satisfying cracks. Draco yawned loudly as he kicked the hot bed sheet of his persona. That was better. Cooler. 

He just laid in the silence of the room he’d been placed in. It wasn’t the hospital wing – too little noise – it was neither the MCE infirmary. But the Slytherin didn’t feel worried; he was in a bed with a bandaged neck and that meant safety in his books.

Suddenly there was the creaking sound of a door being pushed open. Draco couldn’t see from his resting-position but he guessed it was Pomfrey or Nem that wanted to check on him. He tried to sit up a little more proper in the soft hospital bed. His breath hitched as he felt the wound on his neck ache a little, but he kept on pushing himself against the cushions despite the pain. At last sitting up properly. He raised his gaze to see who his visitor was. 

Oh. Dumbledore? 

Draco swallowed as the headmaster slowly did his way over to Draco’s bed, sitting down on a chair beside him. 

“Hello young Malfoy”, the headmaster greeted gravely. His eyes were blue and piercing as he smiled a sad smile at the Slytherin. Draco only swallowed nervously. 

“Hello”, he managed to reply with a hoarse voice. He coughed discreetly into his hand. 

Dumbledore gave him a more sincere smile at his word, but still with sadness tinting his eyes. Almost like the old man grieved. 

Grieved? Fuck! Lupin?!

“Is Lupin okay?!” Draco hadn’t meant to shout, but he couldn’t help it. The desperate need to know that the professor was okay felt close to physical as he leaned his body towards Dumbledore. Ignoring the pain that pierced through his back and throat at the sudden movements. 

The headmaster only raised his hand in a calming gesture. Making Draco immediately let go of a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Thank Merlin. 

“Professor Lupin is alright”, Dumbledore confirmed with a slight twinkle in his eyes. “Even thought he was badly injured did a lovely wood elf fix him up in an extraordinary way. Quite handy with potions and spells that one.”

“Yeah”, Draco responded with a thick voice. “She is.” 

There was a relief spreading inside of him as he remembered more and more from last night. The absolute horror of watching someone being slowly killed in front of you. The desperation that had lanced him, the powerlessness. If Potter hadn’t been there… He would be dead by now. 

But Potter had been there. Dark and showing off in all his glory. Draco felt a twinge of fear at the memory of the shadows surrounding Potter, the shadows that had whispered words of death and destruction. The shadows concealing monsters made from nightmares. 

But Potter – no Harry – had saved them. And Draco felt relieved. 

“As I hope you remember”, Dumbledore continued, unaware of Draco’s swirling inner. “Last night, you were attacked and injured by a member of the MCE. One condition for their stay or as the newspapers call it ‘occupation’, was that no students should under any circumstances come to harm. Otherwise I promised Mr Potter that their stay would come to a swift end.” Here Dumbledore readjusted his half-moon shaped spectacles with his index finger. Serious eyes drilling into Draco’s. “These terms was, with yesterdays attack, broken and so is the truce.”

Draco just stared at the headmaster, a sinking feeling making its way to his stomach. Was the MCE gone from the school? Was Harry gone? He felt a sudden urge to scratch at his neck. He stifled the unexpected feeling and managed to ignore the suddenly burning desire. His fingers itched and so did his neck. 

“They’re gone”, his voice sounded small even to his ears.

“No.”

Dumbledore’s word brought everything back to clearness. They hadn’t left! Harry was still here somewhere! Lupin and Nem were here! It was in a way almost sickening that he felt so much lighter with the knowledge that they were here. In the east wing where they somehow seemed to have always been. 

But they might still leave. 

Draco’s hands shook slightly. “Will they leave?” Draco couldn’t meet the headmasters twinkling eyes at the moment. Whatever answer this question would have, Draco felt that it might change his whole life. It felt terrifying. 

“Maybe”, Dumbledore said and stroked his long beard. “If that is what you want.”

The blonde Slytherin just stared at the old man for a second or two, confused beyond belief. 

“Excuse me?” He managed to crack forth. “What- What’s that suppose to mean?”

“That means that it’s you who decide if you want them out. It was you who was injured, it should be partially your decision.”

Draco was stunned. How did it come that he suddenly had the power to make the MCE leave? To make this rebellion fail. To make the wizard world return to its rightfully order. To make his father proud. 

“Anyway”, Dumbledore continued. “Mr Potter requested that you would have a say in it all”, the old man sighed. “He’s a very persuasive man when he wants to.”

Draco weren’t really listening after the word Potter. Why had Harry wanted him to decide?! Why the bloody hell would he want that?! Was it because he knew that Draco now owed a life debt to Lupin and him? Was it because he knew that he basically had Draco wrapt around his little finger with dreams and all? Was it because he cared…?

He doesn’t care! Draco tried to persuade himself. But the memory of concerned green eyes was still fresh in his mind. Harry had come to check on him before Lupin. Did that mean anything? Or was he just afraid of the truce being broken? Maybe he really did care…

As Draco was a Slytherin he had a hard time accepting that plain fact. That Harry would care about him when he had thousands of creatures to care for. Draco wasn’t a creature, he was simply a wizard. Did that mean that Harry regarded him with less affection than nymphs and werewolves? Did that mean that Draco was something close to an annoying bug…? No it didn’t? Right? 

He had been certain that Harry liked him. Like really liked him. Liked him enough to kiss him. Even liked him enough to open up a little, joke and laugh with him. But that blank stare in the corridor, the unanswered nod... Draco hated that he’d been rendered to a Hufflepuff girl with his dramatic perception of the whole thing. But it had made him bloody insecure. A feeling he wasn’t accustomed to. 

Still there was no hesitation when he answered. 

“I want them to stay.”

Dumbledore nodded and gave him a wistful smile. “Ah, then I guess that the rebellion of Magical Creatures Equality will have a home in Hogwarts a little longer.” The old man rose from his position next to Draco’s bed and looked at the blonde with twinkling eyes. “Until next time Mr Malfoy.”

He swept out of the room in a calm stride. Popping a candy looking orb into his mouth and humming happily. When the door slammed shut Draco was fairly sure he’d done the right thing.

He relaxed against his pillows as the room once again returned to quiet. He hadn’t been in this hall before. It was fairly big with three unoccupied beds along the wall. He could see a couple of cupboards on the far end of the room, probably filled with healing potions and the like. All in all, this seemed like some sort of private infirmary. One that might have been used way back in the days of Hogwarts beginning.

However it was, the silence of the quarter was a welcoming one. 

*

Draco didn’t really know how long he’d been there. He only knew that when he awoke there was night and someone else in the room. 

He continued to lay with his eyes closed, feeling the presence in the room but not who it was. There was a slight shifting at his bedside and the blonde’s heart beat faster at the notion. He forced his breath to remain light as he didn’t want the visitor to know he was awake. 

It was really unreasonable for him to be this scared. But even though he knew it was illogical all that his mind could focus on was murderous black eyes in the face of a huge monster. Greyback. 

It didn’t matter that he’d seen the wolf being brought down by Potter and it didn’t matter that he knew that Greyback was probably dead or at least in isolation. All that mattered was that someone was in this room and as long as there was a cero point five percent chance that it might be the werewolf Draco would be fucking cautious. He cursed himself for not asking Dumbledore for his wand. He could really have use for his wand right about now. 

“Draco I know you’re awake.”

Suddenly all tension left him. Thank Merlin for Harry Potter. 

“Fuck you”, Draco exhaled with a trembling voice. “Have you heard about knocking?”

He opened his eyes and saw the black-haired vampire above him. The moonlight made his skin glow and the green eyes gleam, the familiar sight was like balm for Draco’s soul. Harry stood before him, not a vampire lord flanked by nightmares, but Harry. With the ruffled hair and tilted smile. Draco’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Oh sorry”, Harry rolled his eyes. “Next time I’ll make sure to bring an announcer.”

Draco closed his eyes, a smile fighting its way to his lips against his will. “Fuck you”, he repeated with affection. 

“You say that an awfully lot”, was the vampire’s reply as Draco felt his bed dip on the right side. “Now move over.”

“It’s my bed”, Draco managed a pout even as his heart started beating like crazy. His eyes fluttered open and he found himself staring into an open mouthed smile with a pair of deadly fangs gleaming dangerously. Oddly enough the sight didn’t make him panic, but he swallowed non-the less. 

Merlin, his dim mind thought. I’ve kissed that mouth. It had never really occurred to him that his mouth had been less than inches away from sharp fangs and a deadly bite. His neck throbbed at the thought. 

“Your bed?” Harry repeated with a smile as he pushed Draco to the side. The Slytherin went with the motion, only huffing a small sound of protest. “Guess I’m taking it under occupation.”

“Oh, so witty”, Draco couldn’t supress the sarcastic snort. 

“Well I try.”

Soon Harry was lying beside him in the small bed. Draco’s side was pressed against the vampire’s and the solid cool that greeted him made sparks ignite. He still wore his pyjama top and trousers and Harry wore his black clothes, but it still felt more intimate than anything he’d done before. He masked his move to snuggle closer by stretching his limbs in a distinct cat-like way. 

“Draco, don’t.” Potter’s voice interrupted him in his limb cracking and cool seeking and he turned slightly, so to see the vampire’s profile. 

“Don’t what?” He asked all innocently. 

“Be irresistible and sarcastic”, Harry huffed into the night air. “Looking gorgeous as hell and have the name Malfoy.”

Ouch, that last one hurt. 

“I can’t help who my parents are.”

“I know… Damn, I know.”

“Stop being so prejudgment.”

Harry chuckled tiredly beside him. “I kind of am, aren’t I?”

Draco felt his smile return. “Yeah.”

They fell into silence after that. A comfortable one. Draco wondered what Harry was doing here. In this infirmary, in his bed. Merlin they really laid on a bed together didn’t they? At the moment none of them moved, just stared up at the dark celling. 

Harry had said he was gorgeous. The unexpected thought made Draco blush and he thanked his lucky star that the room was embedded in the darkness of the night. The only light source being the flickering beams from the moon. Harry was gorgeous as well, Draco thought as he peaked at the vampire’s profile. Sometimes unearthly so. 

Draco had never felt any inferiority complex before, but standing next to Harry he felt way over his head. Sure it wasn’t only the face and broad body, it was also the thrill of being with something other than entirely human. Before Draco had been sure he’d despised the fact that Harry was a vampire and not a wizard. Now on the other hand he wasn’t so sure. Power and beauty had always attracted men, no matter of its form. Harry might as well have been those things personified. 

The tricky thing with power and beauty on the other hand was that it was awfully hard to hold on to. Almost impossible. 

But this wasn’t only about attraction any more. Draco moved his left hand to touch his neck absentmindedly. This was something else entirely. 

“Draco?” Harry’s voice awoke Draco from his thoughts and he turned his head to look at the dangerous being beside him. Beside him on his bed.

“Yes”, he whispered with a soft voice. 

“What did Greyback do to you? You were almost unconscious from blood loss when I found you.” 

Draco remained silent as the echoes of the dark voice faded in the night. How could he possible tell Harry that he’d almost killed himself? That he’d scratched and scratched until his neck bled and his flesh showed? He needed help, answers. 

He distantly remembered Greyback snarling hateful words to his face, something about being “Potter’s bitch”. What exactly had he meant? Or could he possible have known? Had this happened before?

“No”, his voice trembled slightly. He needed answers, he needed to say this. “It wasn’t Greyback… It was I.”

Harry turned around so that he was on his side, eyes staring into Draco’s with something close to fear swirling inside of them. “You?” He asked with a low voice. Almost sounding sad in a way. 

Draco turned his body to its side – now angled towards Harry – a few inches in-between their chests. “Yes me…” He hesitated a moment before whispering silently: “I dream…”

Harry closed his green eyes in melancholy, his face being transformed to a mask of pain. Draco felt his pulse escalate at the fact that Harry knew something about this. About the dreams and his neck. Harry’s eyes fluttered open once again, filled with resignation. The sight made Draco slightly scared. 

“Oh Draco”, he breathed as he lifted a hand to rest against the Slytherin’s cheek. “I tried to stop this from happening. I really did.” Draco pressed himself towards the vampire’s palm, close to purring at the comforting feeling. But even though his body seemed to have a life of its own, his mind was listening to Harry’s every word. 

“What happened?” He asked as he allowed himself to be pressed close to the vampire. Harry placed a hand over his hip and dragged the slimmer boy towards him. Draco groaned at the feeling of Harry’s hard body pressing against his. The blonde Slytherin allowed his forehead to rest against the vampire’s, their breaths mixing. 

“This”, Harry said and stroke his hip fondly. “Your neck.”

“How do you know? How could Greyback know?” Draco tried to sound professional even as he close to vibrated at the vampire’s attics. Feeling fingers being pressed at his hip and gliding down to cup his arse in a firm movement. Draco couldn’t help it as he rocked into Harry with a breathy whimper escaping his mouth. 

Harry rocked back at him and squeezed his arse while slowly rolling them over. Him settling on top of Draco. “Because”, he whispered and pressed a hard kiss to the edge of his mouth. “You’re mine now.”

Draco tried to think as he felt the heavy weight of Harry pressing down at him. He tried to say something about him not belonging to anyone, about how he doesn’t know what the vampire was talking about. But Merlin, Harry felt good on top of him. Perhaps too good. It was hard to concentrate and even though his mind tried to remind him about almost dying of blood loss Draco just arched against Harry with a needy whimper. Harry kissed his jaw while his hands started to work on the buttons to Draco’s pyjama top. 

“I’m yours?” Draco really wanted to add something to the question. But found himself just breathing the words before his brain went blank with the feel of Harry’s hands sliding down his torso. The vampire growled in his ear with his dark voice.

“Yes”, Harry whispered as his hands traced the part of Draco’s hipbone that was above the edge of his trousers. His thumbs stroked tiny circles in the Slytherins now burning flesh with firm movements. “All mine.”

Draco’s breath stuttered as he felt the vampire’s mouth on his chest. Tracing slow and sloppy kisses down his abdomen, switching between using his lips and tongue. The blonde Slytherin tangled his hands in the black mess that was Harry’s hair, just holding on as his body screamed for more. Draco shuddered as his mind slowly surrendered to the electrifying touches that Harry left all over his body. He couldn’t seem to think anymore, just feel. 

Harry travelled back to Draco’s mouth. Giving him a wild kiss that left the blonde breathless and lightheaded. Utterly lost in Harry and his cool touch. Then the vampire descended to his neck and nuzzled it affectionately. Kissing his pulse point and dragging his cool tongue over the smooth arc where Draco’s neck became Draco’s shoulder. He sucked lightly at the spot. 

Draco’s body trembled and arched. His whole being devoted to the vampire’s touches. The Slytherin was pretty sure he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, not when Harry felt so good on top of him. Not when the vampire sucked on his throat with a close to painful strength. 

Oh. OH?!

Draco was suddenly hit with what should be a terrifying realisation. Harry was sucking on his neck. Harry was a vampire. 

He should be tensing up. He really should. He should also push the vampire away from him. But he doesn’t. Instead Draco angled his head, giving the dark-haired demon more access to the soft flesh on his throat. Moaning and panting while gripping Harry’s hair with trembling fingers. Fuck it felt good. 

“Merlin”, Harry whispered as he tore himself from Draco’s throat with a soft pop. “You’re gorgeous. So fucking perfect.” One of the vampire’s hands tangled themselves in Draco’s hair and tugged backwards, making the blonde Slytherin expose his throat even more. “And you’re all mine.” He attached himself to Draco’s throat once again. Sucking the throat’s healthy side into blue and black oblivion with the bruises he was surely to leave. 

Draco only whimpered and arched up once again as his breath came out in small huffs of hot air. He couldn’t see Harry as he damaged what was left of healthy skin on his throat. Right now all that Draco could see was the dim celling above him. Not that he minded. Not really. But the Slytherin suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to see Harry, to feel his cool skin instead of robes. He started to tug at the vampire’s dark robe with trembling hands. 

“I want to- want to-” He gasped as Harry’s hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair gripped his hip with bruising force. The hard hold making him burn all over. The vampire rocked hard against him, making the bed creak of the sudden drive. Draco whined into the dark room as the motion was repeated, the sudden friction wonderful beyond imagination. 

“Harry”, Draco started to tug at the vampire’s clothes as Harry drove him into the mattress with every thrust. “Please”, he uttered between gasps as he ached all over with the pleasure that exploded inside of him. “Please.”

Harry seemed to get the idea of what Draco stuttered underneath him, because he suddenly tore away from the blondes throat and straddled Draco’s lower abdomen. Draco shuddered at the sight that greeted him. Harry’s hair was even more wild than usual and the vampire’s eyes were black as when he’d demolished Greyback. Harry began tugging at his robe in fast movements, letting the dark material drop to the floor in an unorganised heap. Draco’s eyes devoured the outline of the vampire’s body as Harry tugged off the black t-shirt he wore underneath. 

Oh Merlin. 

Harry was simply gorgeous. Gorgeous in a way that outmatched everyone else in and outside this school. Gorgeous in the way that made Draco want to worship every scar on the bronze-coloured abdomen. Gorgeous as in hot and drool-dripping in every aspect that was worth mentioning. Draco felt out of his league (which was saying something).

He couldn’t help himself as his hands stretched forth to touch Harry’s stomach. His toes curling as he felt the cool skin that greeted him. His finger’s slid over well-defined abs and Harry groaned above him. The vampire lay down once again and Draco hissed at the sensation of a cool chest touching his. Damn that felt good. 

He pressed up at the feeling and felt rough hands against his lower back. Harry pressed his forehead to Draco’s as he pushed their torsos together with a harsh strength. Draco moaned. Harry smiled, fangs sticking out and all. This is perfect, the Slytherin thought dimly. 

Harry’s hands slipped lower, abandoning his back in favour of cupping his arse. The thin pyjama bottoms felt like nothing as rough hands tightened their grip and jerked up. Draco’s hips collided with Harry’s and he felt himself harden properly as he felt an equally enthusiastic response from the vampire. 

“I want you”, Harry breathed out and gave the blonde a rough trust to emphasise. Draco had a hard time finding words as his mind was chanting out ‘more more more’ incoherently. He managed to focus on black eyes drilling into his own silvery ones and nodded. 

Harry’s hands were suddenly fondling the line of Draco’s trousers, probing fingers just slipping in. “Say it”, he breathed and gave the blonde’s jaw a nib with sharp teeths. Draco felt his heart speed up at the gesture and his whole body close to vibrated. Of fear? Arousal? Maybe a little bit of both. 

However it was he wanted more. 

Maybe the hot throb in his stomach could be compared to the feeling you got before doing something dangerous. Like the sweet buzz before a dive with your racing broom. Like the beat of anticipation before a duel. Like the adrenaline fuelled thrill before going to bed with an Elder Vampire. 

Things could go wrong. You could crash into the ground instead of making that dive. You could loose that duel badly. You could be bled dry. 

But if things worked out… That thrill would be worth dying for. 

“Yes”, Draco moaned. “Merlin yes.”

Harry smiled at him, displaying white teeths in the dark night. “Good”, he whispered as he rose from Draco with a knee on either side of his hips. He hovered above the blonde and shuffled down so that he kneeled above trembling thighs. He then grabbed hold of the Slytherin’s pyjama bottoms with a sturdy grip. Draco panted as he stared at Harry above him, strong and deadly all wrapped into one. 

The vampire looked at him with his black eyes and with a swift movement jerked down his pants and trousers. Draco gasped as his cock sprang free from the restrain of his pants into the cool night air. He wondered if he should feel embarrassed, but when he stared up into Harry’s hungry eyes he couldn’t bother. Not when he was desired like this. 

Harry just mumbled something underneath his breath. The dark tone sending shivers all over Draco’s body. 

“Harry”, Draco asked with a whimper. He felt too hot without a cool body pressed against his, and he wanted the vampire to push against him. Right. Now. 

The rebellion leader looked at him with something wild in his eyes as he leaned down and gave the blonde a slow kiss. Unhurried in opposite to every action so far. Draco allowed himself to be manipulated, his hands coming up to stroke Harry’s broad shoulders. Even if the vampire wasn’t overly muscular, he was clearly stronger than Draco – and that’s without taking the vampire’s strength into consideration. 

But Harry soon withdrew to help Draco with kicking off his trousers that had tangled at his ankles. The Slytherin felt himself grow a bit red as he watched Harry cradle his foot as he gently pulled off the trousers properly. Stroking the arch of his foot in a fond motion. Harry chuckled slightly as Draco couldn’t supress squirming at the tingling feeling and the blonde covered his mouth to supress a giggle. He did have some dignity. And Malfoys weren’t supposed to be ticklish. 

Harry leaned back over Draco and gently guided his hand away from his mouth. “Don’t do that”, he said with something predatory in his voice. “Don’t hide anything.” 

Draco just stared back as the vampire dragged his lips over his in a slow motion. His arms lying spread in line with his head in two tilted V shapes. It felt dangerous to let Harry have total control and Draco felt immediately addicted to the notion. The vampire in question seemed pleased that Draco displayed himself like an all-you-can-eat-buffet and hummed in approval. 

He nudged Draco’s legs with his knees, clearly telling the blonde to spread them. Since Malfoys didn’t spread anything for anyone, Draco allowed his to fall open without a struggle. Harry kissed his jaw in approval before settling between his legs, still keeping distance with the help of his elbows on either side of Draco’s head.

“You’re legs are gorgeous”, Harry muttered as he stroked Draco’s right thigh with fond movements. “And you’re going to wrap them around me.” He told the blonde boy underneath him. Draco closed his mouth and breathed deeply through his nose. Letting his eyes flutter close as he imagined the scene in front of him. Harry thrusting and his legs wrapped around those maddening hips. He swallowed soundly. 

“But not today”, whispered the same dark voice in his ear and Draco’s illusion scattered. “Today”, Harry continued with a positively deadly leer. “You’re going to turn around.” 

“Oh yeah?” Draco asked as he felt something tightened in his stomach at the thought. He wanted it, Merlin he did. But it wasn’t like him to not put up at least a bit of a struggle, so he arched an eyebrow at the vampire and gave him a ‘come-on’ expression. Harry looked lethal and dangerous as he with a quick flip turned Draco facedown on the mattress. The Slytherin didn’t stand a chance. Not with vampire strength and vampire reaction in the picture. 

“Oh yes”, Harry said and Draco felt fingers slide over his shoulder blade. Pressing him down into the soft cushions. “You are.”

Draco tensed as he felt a cool hand caress his now exposed arse. Cupping his cheeks and squeezing affectionately. He moaned loudly into the pillow. 

“Merlin you got a pretty arse”, Harry mumbled as Draco felt a cool mouth kiss his neck. Every touch felt intense since he couldn’t see a damn thing that wasn’t white pillows or a stone wall. His breath hitched as he felt Harry’s fingers start to explore his arse in the more private areas. Fingers teasing the edge of his hole with their cool touch. 

“Oh”, he moaned and tensed slightly. 

“Shh”, Harry just murmured and left a cool kiss in between his shoulder blades. “Take it easy Blondie”, he mumbled. Draco wanted to complain about the Blondie part put was to preoccupied with Harry and his stupid fingers. “You’ve done this before?” Harry then asked as something wet seemed to cote the fingers that a second ago had been dry. 

“Mhmmf-” Draco breathed as his body seemed close to shaking. God this felt weird. 

“That’s not an answer.” Harry’s finger’s circled his hole in steady movements, sometimes bordering on slipping inside, but withdrawing in the last minute. “Draco?” Harry sounded impatient. 

Draco forced himself to focus as he opened his eyes that had fluttered shut. The sight that greeted him was a hospital pillow, and that cleared his mind briefly. 

“Kind of”, he breathed lightly. “I know in theory erhgm- And have tried some stuff.” He couldn’t quite talk, not when Harry kept teasing him with fleeting touches. “Not really”, he then finished and squirmed at the odd but strangely addicting feeling of Harry’s fingers.

“Oh”, Harry muttered and placed another kiss in between his shoulder blades. “Just relax”, he then muttered and slipped a finger inside. Draco wanted to tense again, he really did. But Harry just growled warningly – like he knew what Draco was going to do before he did it – and the blonde Slytherin forced himself to relax. 

After a while, that one finger didn’t seem so disturbing. It didn’t exactly feel amazing, but neither bad. It felt… neutral, but still pleasurable because it was Harry behind him. Harry who held him down and worked him open. And that made all the difference in the world. But then Harry added another finger and brushed by something. 

Draco moaned loudly at the sparks that ignited at the feel. His hips rocked back on Harry’s fingers but the vampire held him down with a strong hand on his back. “Easy” he muttered as he kept moving his fingers, scissoring and stretching. Every now and again he would rub at that spot that made Draco arch and burn all over. And in the end the Slytherin just wanted the preparations to be over. 

He heard Harry shuffle behind him and could only guess that the vampire removed his trousers. Draco felt his breath quicken. He felt how Harry stuffed a pillow underneath his hips and the action was followed by the words “Spread your legs.” With his pulse pounding in his ears the blonde did as he’d been told. Almost feeling the cool of Harry’s skin less than inches from his own. 

“God you look good like that. All spread open”, the vampire whispered as cool hands grabbed hold of Draco’s hips. “All mine.”

Draco felt himself whimper as something big pressed against his entrance – God, Merlin and all seven wonders. 

Harry pressed slowly inside of him and Draco tried to breathe as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. His inside burned, but not in an all-bad way. The vampire steered Draco completely with the firm grip on slender hips and the slow slide of him filling Draco. 

“Fuck”, Harry mumbled once he was firmly sheathed inside of the blonde. Pausing to let Draco adjust. At the moment Draco just gasped for air, trying to grab ahold of something – anything – but couldn’t find a goddamn thing. So he lay there, underneath the deadliest creature alive, and just breathed. 

“You’re so tight”, the vampire growled. And then Harry slowly began to move. Making Draco’s body arch as he pulled out of his body and curl as he pressed in once again. Draco just whimpered and moaned as his brain seemed to have turned into goo. It felt powerful – almost scary – to have someone inside of you. To have something filling you. 

Harry pressed even deeper and increased his speed slightly. His cock brushing that wonderful spot inside of Draco and making the blonde boy whimper at the feel. The whole thing felt so intense. Harry moving in and out of him while he just breathed. To be filled like this felt frightening, incredible and utterly amazing.

Then Harry pushed into him again with a grunt and hit that wonderful spot inside of him spot on and Draco lost it. He moaned loudly as he pushed back towards Harry, helping the vampire to go deeper, to claim him. Harry seemed to get the idea and began to thrust in earnest. Still taking it fairly slow but with a grip on the blonde’s hips that left no discussion of whom was in charge. 

Draco gladly allowed Harry to control the pace as he focused on breathing, his whole body shaking with the burning pleasure. And every time Harry hit that spot inside of him he hissed and howled at the feel. Lost in the rhythm of being owned. 

Because Harry so clearly owned him right now. Just as the vampire had said before the fucking began – “You’re mine now” – Draco indeed was his. Or at least his body was. 

The thought made Draco spread his legs a little wider, allowing the vampire to press even deeper. 

“Fuck Draco.” The vampire hissed as he lifted Draco’s hips to be able to thrust in harder, slowness and carefulness gone from the steady pumping. “Just like that. Relax and take it.” Harry plunged in and Draco whimpered beneath him, drunk on this burn inside of him. Drunk on pleasure. “Good you feel so good. All mine to devour.”

Draco only gasped in response and Harry chuckled slightly as he went a little faster, making the strokes a combination of outmost pleasure and a dull burn. Draco was immediately addicted to the intoxicating mix. 

“Harry”, he moaned and arched his back as the vampire pushed himself deep inside with an increasing rhythm. He felt a hand press down between his shoulder blades to hinder him from moving while another cool hand kept grasping his hip. Harry held him down as he plunged deeper, pressing Draco into the mattress. Not that the blonde snake cared, he was far too gone to focus on anything other than the burning fire inside of him.

God he was hard. 

Draco moved his hands down towards his cock while riding out Harry’s thrusts. He moaned and close to vibrated as the pleasure inside of him kept building. The vampire seemed to sense what he was doing because suddenly Draco’s hands were held over his head in a tight grip. The blonde whimpered as Harry kept on pounding while hissing “No Draco.”

“Please”, the blonde begged. He needed friction, this was unbearable. “Please.”

“Hold on”, Harry groaned and Draco’s body shook of the strong thrusts that made him go limp, tense and crazy.

“Please”, he begged again. Trying to pull his hands out from the hard grip above his head.

“Let me”, the vampire murmured as Draco whimpered into the mattress. 

He nodded his head frantically while whispering another “Please”. He’d stopped trying to free his hands and just waited for Harry to do something, anything.

Harry kept on ramming into Draco’s slim body as he took a hold of Draco’s cock. Stroking it up and down with firm movements. The blonde’s back arched at the touch as he almost sobbed at the overwhelming pressure that was on the brink of release. 

Another brush on that maddening spot inside of him combined with Harry’s stroking hand pushed him over the edge. Draco cried out as his whole body convulsed. Making him jerk and shake as he felt wave after wave of pleasure inside of him. Merlin he’d never had such an intense orgasm – if you could even call it that, this rumbling feeling felt close to earth shattering.

After a small eternity in the heat of a volcano Draco’s whole body simply slummed down on the cot, drained on anything resembling strength. It felt like he’d played quidditch for five days without pause. 

Harry was still holding him down, his hips driving into him with a rapid speed. Draco allowed his exhausted body to be controlled by the vampire the few seconds it took before also Harry fell off the edge. Gripping the blonde’s hips with a brutal force and coming inside of him. Draco shuddered at the intimate sensation. 

Harry pressed a small kiss to Draco’s back before slipping out of the Slytherin’s lean body and rolling to the side. He turned his head towards Draco’s exhausted form with a broad smile. The Slytherin couldn’t do much other than breathe and tremble. His whole body coted in sweat and also come. 

His eyes flickered over Harry’s seemingly unaffected body. He had neither sweat nor quivers. The damn entity didn’t even have a laboured breathing. 

Harry stroked a cool hand over Draco’s forehead. The Slytherin had a hard time focusing his gaze and his eyelids seemed to have a life on their own with the way they tried to fall down. 

“You’re tired”, the dark creature whispered. Draco just nodded vaguely. 

“I think so”, he answered with a horse voice. 

“Sleep.”

And so Draco did. 

* 

The morning was odd. Odd as in that Draco was comfortably cool instead of his usually overheated morning self. Odd as in that he felt rested for the first time since forever. Odd as in that there was someone very obviously sleeping next to him in this room that clearly wasn’t the dorm. 

Suddenly Draco remembered. Oh fuck. 

He slowly opened his eyes and found himself staring into green. Oh fuck. 

“Good morning”, Harry smiled at him, dangerous fangs flashing in the morning sun. Oh fuck!

“How are you”, the vampire continued. “Are you feeling okay? You’re not sore?”

OH FUCK!

Draco scrambled away from the loose embrace he’d been engulfed in. He also scrambled off the bed. With a swift jump did Draco land with his feet on the cold stone floor in this odd infirmary. He stared at the dark-haired creature in front of him with wide eyes, going from drowsy to wide-awake in a few seconds. 

Harry had dropped his smile and looked at him with narrowed eyes. 

Draco swallowed as he stared at the breath-taking sight in front of him. He’d never seen the vampire bathing in sunlight before, except from the white-black images in the Prophet. But those dull photos were nothing to the reality. Nothing to a half naked vampire lying in a bed with the duvet draped low over his hips and popped up on one elbow, leaving little to imagination. Merlin it really should be forbidden to look like that. Was he really a vampire at all? Right now Draco was more likely to bet for veela. 

“Oh fuck”, was the only word that came to mind. Harry stared up at him with piercing eyes, his face seemingly more enchanting when presented in plain daylight. 

They had had sex yesterday. Draco’s mind unhelpfully supplied. Draco had run his hands down those abs and shoulders. He’d kissed that mouth. 

He’d been held down and owned. 

And that was the whole problem. Malfoys didn’t take, they dealt. Draco was a Malfoy, or at least he was until his father found out. 

He’s not going to find out, Draco reminded his brain. But there was still doubt in the sentence. If Harry suddenly wanted to spread out that he’d claimed the enemy, that he’d – quite literarily – fucked the enemy into the mattress, who was Draco to do anything to stop that. Who was anyone to stop an Elder vampire from doing anything? 

Harry Potter’s bitch. Was that what he’d become – as Greyback so nicely put it? 

Draco turned his gaze down his own body. Noticing with a thickness in his throat his bruised hips. 

Thank Merlin Harry had put back his pyjama trousers when he himself had fallen asleep. Draco was unsure if he would have managed to avoid panic if he’d realised he stood in front of the vampire naked. Still the marks showed, he wondered if it was even worse underneath the cloth. 

“Does it hurt?” The dark voice startled Draco as he quickly returned his gaze to the vampire. Broadening his stance and bending his back slightly as he moved a foot or two towards the door. It wasn’t until he’d done the pose that he remembered who he’d seen it on first. 

Lupin… while protecting him from Greyback. 

Potter seemed to recognise the posture for what it was – defence against an enemy – and growled slightly. “Draco”, he said with a warning lancing his voice. “Stop doing that.”

But Draco only crouched lower and backed towards the door. Harry seemed to sigh deeply as his green eyes grew darker. 

“Draco”, he tried again. “Talk to me.”

But the blonde Slytherin just stared at Harry with calculating eyes. His mind whirling around the suffocating thought of being made someone’s ‘bitch’. He wouldn’t let anyone dictate him, not let anyone own him. No matter if it was the most powerful person walking this earth or a mouse. No-fucking-one would make him bend over or fall to his knees. Not Harry, not anyone. 

But right now Harry stared at him and wanted to talk. Draco didn’t want that. He didn’t want to remember anything frankly. Not him begging under the vampire and not him moaning and taking it. Not him spreading his legs. 

Sure he’d dreamt about it. But the reality was – in contrary to his dreams – real. He could almost see headlines of “Malfoy heir’s rebellion, taking it a step further” or “Creature right opponent’s son keeping enemies a bit too close.” That would not be happening. Not as long as Draco lived. He would make sure of it. 

He couldn’t deal with seeing Potter right now. Not when he so clearly had the vampire’s handprints all over his lower body. 

He stepped a bit closer to the door. 

And then Potter vanished. One moment he’d watched Potter like a hawk. His eyes trained on the vampire that had rested on the hospital bed. But in the next second the vampire was gone. Leaving an empty bed in his wake and a flutter of an empty duvet. Draco’s mind barely had time to register the lack of a dark haired creature before he was pressed against the floor. 

Above him was the missing vampire, annoyed and heavy. Draco struggled with all his might for about three seconds. Then Potter grabbed a hold of his wrists and slammed them down above his head with one hand. Rendering Draco immobile with the pressure of a heavy body and the restrain of his only weapon, his hands. The blonde’s legs were already pinned to the floor and were thus also useless in the quest for escape. 

Potter grabbed Draco’s chin with a firm hand and forced the blonde to look him in the eyes. Those intoxicating green eyes. 

Draco didn’t really want to, but then again he didn’t have much choice. Because what the Elder wanted the Elder took. 

“What”, he hissed and tried to push the vampire off him without success. 

“Draco what the fuck’s wrong with you.” Potter lowered his head and sneered at the hateful eyes that met him. “What. Is. Your. Fucking. Problem!?”

Since there really wasn’t a good answer to that seeing as Potter was still to go to the Prophet or meet anyone, Draco just stared up at him. Irritation written all over his aristocratic face. 

“Oh, the silent treatment?” Potter asked with hurt lancing his dark voice. Draco felt something sting inside of him but stubbornly refused to pay it any attention. Don’t let him lure you, he thought desperately. Don’t listen to him. 

He knew that Potter so far hadn’t done anything. Actually the vampire had rather done the opposite, saved him several times and such. But it was just too much too soon. 

The sex had been great, okay amazing. But Greyback’s words scared him, loosing his family scared him, even Potter – at moments – scared him. He needed Pans or perhaps Dana. Just someone that wasn’t gorgeous and dark-haired and named Harry Potter. 

So he tried to slither out of the vampire’s grasp once again. Without success. 

“Let me go”, Draco said. 

“Not bloody likely”, was the only answer he got as Potter tightened his grip. “Now tell me what the fuck’s your problem.”

“Not bloody likely”, Draco smirked at the vampire. 

“Oh, so that’s how you want to play it?”

“I don’t want to ‘play it’ at all. Just let me go you fanged dumbwit.”

Potter snarled at him and for a moment Draco’s chest tightened in something resembling fear. The vampire was royally pissed and the blonde was fairly certain he wouldn’t escape untouched if he kept up with his resistance. Not that he had any intention to become obedient, especially since Potter held him down – just like last night. Draco tried to jerk his head out of the hard hand that forced him to stare up at the vampire, the try fruitless of course. 

“Draco…” The vampire prolonged the ‘r’ as his voice vibrated through Draco. “What is it? Seriously? Just fucking tell me! I’ll even let you go afterwards-”

“Oh such mercy”, the Slytherin sneered. 

Potter’s eyes flashed dangerously. “You’re not making this easy.”

“No I suppose not. Not really what you expected from one of your bitches right? You rather wanted someone quiet who would have opened their legs or mouth after a glance from you? Guess what Potter! That’s not happening!”

The vampire just gave Draco a look of utterly confusion clouded with something dark shimmering beneath. “The fuck are you on about Draco?”

Draco lowered his voice in mock imitation of the dark-haired entity with a roll of his eyes. “You’re all mine Draco. Mine to devour. Mine to fuck into oblivion. Mine to suck dry-”

“Wow Draco, wow. I guess that you was out of it more than I’d presumed because maybe you didn’t notice but I DIDN’T SAY HALF OF THOSE THINGS!”

“Well you fucking wanted to!”

Potter leaned down towards Draco, pressing their foreheads forcefully together. “When have I ever – and I mean fucking ever – expressed so much as a tiny wish for sucking your blood? Hm, never? That’s fucking right never!”

“You said you wanted to eat me once-”

“Jesus Christ and the whole Wizard Order are you making yourself stupid or are you really delusional? Have you heard about metaphors? Or do you actually presume that people who say someone is hot means to say that that someone have a fever?”

“No-”

“Or when someone say ‘you’re delicious’ they are referring to themselves as cannibals?” 

“Fuck no! But you’re not a fucking wizard are you?!”

“Ah so here’s the real problem. I’m a creature and your not. I’m a lower being-”

“Don’t you dare put words in my mouth! I never said that.”

“Oh so you can flirt and snog with a creature but when things goes further-”

“I hate you Potter! I fucking hate you so much right now! You sorry piece of squib-born bastard!”

“That’s because I’m right!” Harry growled into the blonde boy’s face. “That’s because I’m right and you’re just like your fucking father! I was an idiot for thinking different!”

“No you don’t turn this on me!” Draco felt a big lump in his throat as he suddenly stared up at a blurred image of Potter. Don’t cry now, he thought desperately. “This has nothing to do with that you’re a creature! This has to do with everything else!”

“What else is there!?”

Draco laughed dryly at the vampire’s exclamation. “What else is there”, he mocked and Potter growled dangerously. “How about ‘we should not do this’ and then the next moment you’re pounding me into the mattress-”

“I did not-”

“Call it whatever makes you feel better Potter”, Draco hissed before continuing. “How about we’ve met three times before you’re suddenly claiming me? How about that you see my neck wound and suddenly all is green to go ahead?! Suddenly I’m yours! How about Greyback saying I’m one of your bitches! Is this usual stuff to you?! Go around and fuck people to show your so-called ‘claim’?! ARE YOU A FUCKING DOG?!” 

“It’s not like that!” But Potter sounded uncertain as the words spilled over his cold lips. Draco looked up into a face of hesitation and somehow that answer was all he needed. 

“We’ve talked. Get off of me.”

“No”, Potter furrowed his brows and continued to hold Draco down. “We’re not done yet.”

“The hell we are”, Draco sneered. He felt fucking stupid right now. So fucking stupid. He wasn’t even a one-time thing with Potter; he was just another body to toy with. One of many. Had he even believed himself to be anything more to one of the most powerful beings on this earth? He had, according to the sudden pain in his chest. 

“I say we’re not done yet”, Potter said in a low voice. A voice that probably made people flee and hide. That made people prey to Gods for salvation, or just beg Potter for mercy. However it was, the voice didn’t face Draco. Not right now. 

“But I say we are! Haven’t anyone told you no?!” 

“Not recently.”

“Then allow me to fresh up your memory. No is in opposite to yes a decline. It’s a negative and one you should pay respect to. In many cases No can mean ‘I don’t want to’ but right now it means FUCK OFF AND LET ME GO!”

“Too bad Draco”, Potter looked positively gleeful. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Draco tried to throw the vampire off him, but again failing. The vampire didn’t even budge, no matter how violently he shoved. He didn’t appreciate being stuck beneath Potter, it made him feel even more like property. Because property didn’t have a say in matters, like Draco didn’t have right now. He was at Potter’s mercy, in so many ways. 

“No I guess I’m not”, the blonde sneered. “So I’ll hear you out. Now… tell me why you suddenly decided to fuck me?! Was it after you realised I’d scratched my neck to oblivion?! What does it mean? What does my dreams mean?!” Draco arched an eyebrow at the bothered look on the vampire’s face. “Start talking”, he demanded. 

Potter just sighed deeply, like he really wanted to be somewhere else than on top of a fire spitting Slytherin. Tough for him, Draco thought darkly. I’m not the one holding anyone down. 

“All right”, Potter whispered and stared down at Draco. “But you’re not going to like it… No one does.”

“It has happened to others?”

“Yeah… It’s not usual but it happens…”

“Go on…”

“Well”, Potter looked tired. “You dream of me biting you. Right?”

Draco nodded slowly. 

“And it has for quite a while judging from your wound.”

“Since the first time I met you.”

“Oh”, Potter looked stunned as his green eyes studied Draco’s face. “That’s… really unusual. Most times it takes a week or so before the dreams start coming-”

“Do you want to bite me?” Draco looked closely at the vampire as he asked the question. Looking for signs of mistruth when the vampire opened his mouth. 

“Honestly, yeah. But not like you think. I’m not seducing you so that you will let me drink your blood – as a certain professor thought – and I’m not a freaking animal. I can, believe it or not, resist the temptation of blood.”

“So you want to bleed me dry-”

“Stop Draco. Stop being stupid when I know you’re not. I just said that even though I have ice-cream in front of me, I don’t have to eat it. It’s called ‘resist the temptation’.”

Draco stared up into serious green eyes and couldn’t supress a snort. “I’m an ice-cream?”

Potter’s mouth curved slightly as he rolled his eyes. “Of all the things I said”, he mumbled before resuming to stare down at Draco with warmer eyes. “Draco”, he continued. “I’m not doing this with a lot of people. And certainly not with anyone that wants me to bite them.”

“But”, Draco managed as he suddenly felt very vulnerable now that the anger had worn off a bit. “But I don’t want you to bite me, not really.”

“Yeah I know”, Potter looked sad. “I guess this is my fault.”

“It is?” Draco’s eyes grew harder. 

Potter gave him a tired look. “Oh come on. It’s not like I want it to happen!”

“Right.”

“Just listen”, the vampire sounded frustrated. “I’m the Elder vampire, right. The almighty ruler of vampires wide and far. The most powerful entity on the planet.”

“Oh do go on Potter, tell me all about your greatness. Do you want me to call you Your Highness? Or do you simply prefer to be called God?”

“Well… it’s true.”

“Arrogance is an ugly trait.”

“No– Wait– What? Just shut up and listen will you?! Since I supposedly shall lead the vampire race to flourish and prospect there’s this thing…” Potter trailed off. 

Draco stared at the entity above him. “Go on”, he said with an impatient smack of his tongue. 

“Humans can be turned into vampires. As you know. And even thought the process takes a fair bit of time and preparations it needs to be done willingly. So since I’m the leader and have responsibilities etc. etc. Have I been granted this power of manipulating humans in my presence so that they will want to join our ranks.”

“Become a vampire.”

“Yeah exactly.” 

Draco didn’t like the sound of that. He didn’t want to become a vampire. “I don’t want to become a vampire.”

“Yeah…” Potter looked sad. “I tried to stay away from you. But I guess that didn’t work out…”

“You can’t control this manipulation thing?”

“No… not really. It just happens if a human interacts with me too much.”

“Human as in wizard or muggle?”

Potter’s eyes grew distance as he nodded briskly. “Exactly.”

Draco was quiet for a while as his brain tried to understand what had been said. Was he going to turn into a vampire now? Or what would happen if he refused? 

“What’s going to happen if I resist?” Draco couldn’t control the tremble that lanced his voice. “What happens if I don’t get turned to a vampire?”

“Sometimes the dreams stops. Unusual but there have been a time or two when that has happened. The human have told me about the dreams at once and we’ve gone our separate ways. Usually… They don’t stop.”

“Don’t?” Draco swallowed nervously having a bad feeling about what to come. 

“Then they turn. But for those who don’t… There are ways to prolong… but in the end it all ends the same.”

“As in…”

Potter gave him a steady gaze as he inhaled deeply. “They die.”

“Die?” Draco felt faint. 

“Yes, usually by clawing out their own throats at night…” Potter actually shook. A feat Draco had deemed impossible for the collected vampire. “The first time it happened I just wanted to end myself. I really did. But I’m hard to kill right!? I couldn’t do it and now I think no one else can either. Draco”, here Potter let go of Draco’s arms and cupped his jaw with both hands. A haunted look on his beautiful face. “I’m so sorry Draco.”

Draco didn’t know if he was breathing. The room spun, as did the vampire above him. He would die? He couldn’t be turned to a vampire; he couldn’t do that to his father and mother. They would rather die than have a creature as their child. 

“You did this?” Draco asked with a breathy voice, his head feeling light and his limbs trembling. “You did this because I’m a Malfoy? You wanted to get back at my father for opposing you! And what better way to do it than turn me into a vampire! One that has to bow down to you!”

Suddenly Greyback’s words made perfect sense. Potter’s bitch in bed and politics. He’d been played, outplayed and used. Formed into the perfect chess piece for Potter and his fucking rebellion to use. Potter didn’t give a crap about him, no matter what the vampire said, this was too much a coincident for that not to be true. But Draco didn’t like getting played. Didn’t like realising that Lupin’s protection of him had been due to a political agenda instead of care or fondness. He felt like a fool. Snakes weren’t suppose to be played they were suppose to do the playing. Not this time apparently. 

Draco would rather die than submit. Right now he just wanted to be back at the manor to spend the last of his life with his family. No-fucking-way he would ever be turned to a vampire. No-fucking-way he would be used against his family. But not even that grace was granted him. He was stuck at Hogwarts that was under occupation. 

Merlin he wished he’d told Dumbledore to throw the rebellions out of the castle. But he’d been played, brutally, and had instead begged for them to stay. Oh the irony. 

“No Draco”, Potter sounded hurt but the blonde refused to listen. Refused to be fooled again. 

“Yes Draco”, the blonde corrected. “Congratulations Potter!” He spit out the vampire’s surname. “You’ve managed to wrap one of your enemies sons around your little finger. And all it took was groping him and whispering sweet lies. Well done Potter.”

“No Draco. No no no no no. You don’t get to make up stupid ulterior motives for anything I’ve done. I’ve never even thought for a second about using you in the MCE:s favour.”

“The hell you have.”

“No Draco”, Potter’s hands felt close to painful when they tensed against the blonde’s jaw. “I never have and never will. People are granted their own opinion on things. I’m here to make them see the wrong in their ways, not to force them into submission.”

“Cute speech Potter. You should really say it to someone more blonde than me.”

“Draco. I don’t want – and never wanted – to hurt you-”

“Is sex a part of it too”, Draco interrupted another sad little speech from Potter. Probably one where he said how sorry he was about everything and that Draco was wrong. But the Slytherin didn’t want to hear excuses, he wanted facts. “Is sex a part of this ‘getting-turned-into-a-vampire’ too?”

Potter stared at him for a heartbeat. “No.”

“Lies.”

“Truths”, Potter replied and cold air swept over Draco’s face as the vampire exhaled. “There’s a certain change in the view of me when you’re affected by the Pull, but you don’t necessarily want to have sex with me.”

“Not necessarily-”

“Listen here. It doesn’t make you want to have sex with me. It makes you perhaps view me with awe and you start to want to spend time in my presence, but other than that it does nothing. That you wanted to get on with me was entirely on your own.”

The words felt hard as they left Potter’s mouth. In that single sentence the vampire had taken away what little hope Draco had to be able to blame everything on the so-called Pull. He’d wanted to go to bed with Potter, practically begged the dark-haired vampire to take him. And that was part of him? Not part of some sick curse that Potter seemed to radiate to anyone human in his presence? 

Draco wasn’t sure. Wasn’t sure on anything really… All he knew was that Potter had just said he was dying. 

“Can’t we go our separate ways?” Draco asked with a weak voice. “You said that sometimes the Pull lets go if not encouraged.”

“Yeah… But it’s not that simple anymore. Usually I recognise the signs pretty good. Someone staring at me with worshipping eyes or following me where ever I go. But you didn’t. You didn’t start to do any of those things.” Potter looked at him with curious as well as worried eyes. “That’s why I didn’t think it had begun, that’s why I didn’t make sure to stay away from you.”

“You can stay away now”, Draco said with a flickering hope in his voice. 

“I could… But it wouldn’t do any good. You’re too far in the Pull. Hell, you’ve even started to scratch at your neck. It won’t do any good… I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t know that.” Draco sounded desperate even to his own ears. “You don’t know!”

“Actually I do!” Potter said with a shake of his head. “Don’t you think I’ve seen people fade away in front of me due to this?! If I didn’t have a damn rebellion to lead I would isolate myself and never fucking emerge! Just like Constantin.”

“Constantin?” 

“The last Elder”, Potter muttered before once again drilling his eyes into Draco’s. “But Draco it will only get worse if you keep away. Because the Pull is what it sounds like: a pull towards me who can turn you, and the more you resist the worse the Pull will become.”

Draco felt an odd wetness emerge from his eyes down his temples as he stared up at Potter, the truth sinking in. “I’m dying.” He whispered. Sounding pathetically weak. 

But Potter just stroked his cheek with a pained expression and hummed softly. 

Draco hated it. That Potter had probably used him (no matter how much the vampire tried to deny it, that was to Draco the truth) and now comforted him. The worst part of it all was the pain. The pain that came with the realisation that Draco still liked – if not more than liked – the dark-haired creature. That he felt a pain larger than the knowledge of him dying which was the knowledge of betrayal. That Draco was soothed by the vampire. The same one that had doomed him. 

The flow of tears increased. Merlin he was pathetic. 

Even more so as he pressed up into the vampire. He was just so tired, so drained. And Potter was above him with his soothing skills on full active. Lulling his exhausted and pained body to sleep with gentle caresses and lies about how “everything will be all right”. 

It wouldn’t be all right. Not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ You made it through! Awesome! 
> 
> I have said earlier that this would be my last chapter before school started and that I would do this like an “alternative ending” … Clearly that didn’t happen x)
> 
> This chapter just got away from me! It didn’t turn out how I’d anticipated it to do at all. But now in the end I’m still fairly pleased with it. What to say? Stories have more power than the authors writing them ^^
> 
> But even thought this end is a pretty mean way to leave things. I really can’t continue, not with school around the corner :( Maybe I’ll do a short POV from Harry’s side that’s somehow “happier” than this?
> 
> Anyway we’ll just have to see as time goes! I want to thank all of you who stick with me on this bumpy ride! I think of myself rather lucky to have all of you supporting me :)
> 
> Have a continuing great Day/Night! Cheers!
> 
>  
> 
> PS This story has reached over 250 kudos! WAAAA! How crazy isn’t that x) You guys ROCK!


	8. Harry's POV

Harry stared down at the gorgeous enigma in his arms. At the moment, the enigma in question wasn’t very beautiful. Or perhaps he was, but to Harry the tears that streamed down the enigma’s temples made him lose focus on everything else. The vampire couldn’t see the platinum blond hair that had always enchanted him, nor could he appreciate the warm body beneath his cold one. The tears were like a fog. A horrible fog that made his vision and mind hazy. It made him stop thinking rationally and when you were one of the most powerful entities on the planet it didn’t do to stop thinking rationally. That was what brought down countries and made cities burn. 

Harry tried to sooth the blonde boy beneath him, Draco Malfoy. The one who he’d doomed to death. 

Because it wouldn’t end any other way would it? Not when Draco was set on rather dying than joining the ranks of creatures, the so-called ‘lower beings’. Harry stroked a cold hand down the pure-blood’s cheek, crooning and whispering softly. Draco answered by pressing up against his bane, his killer, and whimper with a broken voice. 

Harry just kissed his forehead softly and exhaled cool air against the heat that greeted his lips. 

At the beginning Draco had been a funny thing. He’d been beautiful beyond what should be legal and completely terrified of vampires. But after some awkward moments of stuttering and terror, Draco had shown that he wasn’t only legs and a blonde head, he had a smart mouth that accompanied the fit body. A mouth that drove Harry crazy. Be it with talk or kisses. 

Draco’s heart had been on a roller coaster; frankly it still was, at least in Harry’s present. The speed of it going up and down with moments notice even if it of late had stabilised slightly. But as all things that were “too good to be true” so was also this. Because the blonde boy that drove Harry mad – that drove the vampire inside of him irrational – wasn’t a Smith or a Jones. He was a Malfoy. 

Just that should have made Harry stay away, far away, and in the beginning it had. But that was until fucking Fenrir had come in and messed things up beyond recognition. First by terrorising a firstie and then by nearly killing Remus and Draco. 

Harry had been so angry. It was almost frightening when he looked back at it. He’d felt an overwhelming urge to kill, maim and destroy. To make Greyback suffer for being a backstabbing lunatic. To make him suffer for even laying a finger on Draco. So Harry had killed him, slowly and agonisingly. He’d made sure to hide any traces of the burning pain he’d brought the wolf, the pain that had prolonged his death for days while his body had appeared dead. Greyback had suffered. Harry had made sure of it. 

“Am I really going to die?” The whisper was faint but still there. Harry’s mind returned to the problem at hand as his mouth started to trail featherlike kisses down Draco’s jaw. His hands that had kept the blonde in place abandoned their position to aid the vampire with slow strokes that spoke of safety and love. 

“No”, Harry whispered between kisses. His hands traveling down the bare torso of Draco, counting the blonde’s ribs and marvelling at the soft skin above the skeleton cage. There was a firmness that spoke of muscles not entirely common for wizards. Maybe he played Quidditch? Not that Harry knew… He didn’t know Draco that well. 

And that was perhaps the most disturbing thing of them all. He didn’t know Draco, never had and perhaps never would. Because they were so different, hell they weren’t even of the same species. But there was something about him, something that made Harry able to kill without guilt, something that made the vampire inside of him scream of claiming and protecting. Harry wanted to drink Draco’s blood, he wanted to wake up next to him in the mornings, he wanted to be able to kiss the blonde whenever he felt like it and he wanted to be able to kill whoever even dared to look at Draco the wrong way. 

Harry didn’t have time for distractions. He was a leader with a mission, a mission that could change the whole wizard world and beyond. Draco was a distraction. A big one. And he was about to become an even bigger issue. Because he was dying, and there was an almost unnatural itch inside of Harry that wanted to turn him. It was strange; he’d never felt the Pull being this strong with anyone else. 

But Draco was an exception; maybe it was time Harry admitted that to himself. The blonde didn’t follow the rules, just as he didn’t act as one should while under the influence of the Pull. Because if he had… maybe Harry would have been able to stay away before it was too late. Before Draco had been helplessly doomed to abandon his humanity, one way or another. 

‘Bite him, make him stay forever.’

‘I can’t do that.’

Harry kissed Draco’s cheek a little bit harder, as if to muffle the voice in his head with the help of milk-white skin. Draco was almost paler than him – and he was supposed to be the vampire – but Harry guessed that was what you got when you still had the ability to walk underneath the sun. A tan. 

“I can’t turn.” The vibration from Blondie’s voice made Harry’s chest tingle and the Elder vampire closed his eyes at the peculiar feeling. “I can’t turn into one of you”, Draco clarified with a wavering voice. Sadness and betrayal still staining the otherwise flawless tenor. 

“I never wanted you to.” Harry said as he lifted his head from Draco’s jaw, getting a better look at the blonde underneath him. “I never wanted you to”, he repeated as if it would make the blonde see reason. 

“This is so wrong.” 

Harry winched at the words that left Draco’s lips, the lips he’d kissed not even five hours ago. “No it’s not”, he objected with a whisper. 

Draco let out a strangled sound, somewhere in between a laugh and a sob. “I should hate you”, he whispered as his head pressed against Harry’s hand that was tangled in his fair hair. “I should really hate you.”

He turned his head so that his face lay pressed against the vampire’s palm. Harry just watched him with intense eyes as Draco kissed his palm with warm lips and wet cheeks. Why did this feel so right when it obviously was so wrong? Because right now Draco cried and hurt so this was not the time for Harry to want anything else than comfort the blonde, not the time for him to remember last night. To remember pale legs spread open. 

‘You can have his blood and body if you just take it.’

Harry didn’t bother arguing with the voice. The voice that whispered addicting words of power and ruling. The voice he’d labelled ‘Elder vampire’ when it in reality was his deepest desire speaking out loud. He whished it wasn’t, but since he’d actually followed it with murdering Fenrir he couldn’t just brush it under the rug, not any more. 

He knew that he could probably take Draco’s blood, hell there was no probably about it. It was only a matter of pressing him up against a stone wall and grip the blonde’s hair and shoulder. Then the feast would be served. He could probably turn Draco and make him believe he wanted it. Being Elder vampire meant that you could do a far lot of things, and a lot of those things worse than good. But even though the temptation was there, Harry refused to become slave under his desires. He was too important, too powerful to lose grip of himself, be it over a blonde 16 year old or his vampire instincts. 

Draco shifted underneath and Harry felt the blonde’s legs slide open, allowing the vampire to rest more comfortably between the long limbs. The vampire gave a small sound of appreciation and allowed his weight to settle, one of his hands traveling down to grip Draco’s hip lightly. 

How did it come that lives were falling apart and they still couldn’t help but act on this silly addiction to one another? 

“I want to hate you.” Draco’s voice sounded more breathy than choked with sorrow. “You’ve killed me.” His eyes stared up at Harry, silvery and filled with grief and want. “You’ve claimed me.” He moved his hips up from the floor, making them crash together with Harry’s in a maddening motion. The vampire responded with a similar move, pressing Draco to the stone floor. “I don’t think you like me.” Draco continued as his hands came to caress Harry’s bare back. “You think I’m useful-”

“I don’t”, Harry whispered and claimed the warm lips below his with a hard pressure. Draco gave a muffled ‘Umph’ at the sudden notion, but let his hands travel up to tangle in black hair none the less. The feeling of burning fingers against Harry’s scalp made madness take over the vampire’s thoughts, just as it had last night. He licked against the blonde’s lips and Draco surrendered with a shiver. Harry’s tongue dived in into the heat with a demanding move. Making the blonde whimper as he with long strokes explored Draco’s mouth once again. 

It was something special with kissing heat this strong, something addicting with being surrounded by blood and not drinking it. But even thought all of this was true, Draco was what drove him crazy. 

Harry was a vampire and was therefore used to drink blood. Warm blood was always good, but of late it had been through vials, which weren’t nearly as tasty. To be honest it was down right bad, but what to do when you occupied a school filled with children and more than suspicious teachers? Ask your friend Nem to get some from an unreachable outside? That was how things had worked this last month.

But even so, Harry had never felt the so-called ‘blood-lust’, the infamous feeling of wanting to drink to the point of attacking. Even now he had never had it that bad. But for some reason, he suspected that it would change. Because the Pull on Draco would only grow stronger and with it the need to change him. 

Draco’s blood would start to literally sing to vampires, be them Harry or anyone else. He would become amortentia to anyone with fangs and a will to devour blood. 

That was probably something Harry should mention. But right now he was engulfed in the blonde’s mouth and what he should and shouldn’t do was a far away thing. He allowed his hands to slowly travel down and grip Draco’s hips, thumbs stroking across the warm skin above his hipbones as he kissed the blonde beneath him. 

Sure there were ways to prolong death – aka the Pull’s aftermath. He should really talk to Draco about that as well. How there were ways to fool the force of nature. Draco wasn’t going to like it, but it would give him some months. As it was he barely had one month…

‘You can’t let him die.’

For once Harry agreed with his inner voice. 

‘No I can’t.’

Draco did a small whimpering sound and Harry released his lips with reluctance. While he didn’t necessarily had to breathe Draco would faint without air, so their kisses was regretfully short. Merlin, if Harry could he would spend every waking moment kissing Draco. 

Draco’s chest heaved beneath Harry’s, the blonde’s lips slightly swollen and glistering. He looked absolutely stunning, even with the slightly red eyes and nose. 

“Why can’t I hate you”, Draco whispered and looked downright miserably. Draco wasn’t supposed to look miserably, he was supposed to laugh or moan with a matching expression. Harry couldn’t resist bending down to drag his cool tongue over warm lips in an attempt to lick away the sorrow. It seemed to work partly, because Draco moaned and arched his back at the sensation before catching himself. Then muffling his voice to a low whine as he seemingly forced his body to stay down. 

Harry wanted to smirk at the blonde’s attics but found himself suppress the curving of his mouth. He really didn’t want to make it worse for Draco by giving him the idea that he was mocking him. 

“I don’t hate you.” Harry said as he paid close attention to the blonde’s jaw, Draco had after all a very nice jaw, almost eatable. The vampire wanted to nibble on it, but held back as not to scare Draco with his fangs. 

“Of course you don’t”, Draco responded with an empty laugh. “I’m your perfect pawn.”

“No not really”, Harry whispered back and nuzzled the blonde’s neck. “You’re nowhere near being perfect in that aspect. I don’t think anyone could ever play you Draco.”

“Except the Elder vampire.” His voice sounded grey in its bleakness. 

“I haven’t done anything with the intention to use you Draco. Sure it might seem that way looking back, but I swear its not.”

“Oh, sorry for me not believing you.”

“What would it take”, Harry rose up from the blonde’s neck to stare him in the eyes. “What would it take for you to believe me?”

Draco stared up at him with vulnerable eyes, biting down on his lower lip in a maddening motion. “I don’t think you can do anything that would make me believe you…” He finished and angled his head away from Harry’s intent stare. 

The raven-haired vampire simply reached out and grabbed hold of the blonde’s jaw, forcing his head to turn back to meet Harry’s eyes dead on. “Time then”, he whispered and kissed the blonde lightly. 

“Potter-”

“Harry.”

Draco just exhaled softly. “Harry… time is apparently not on my side.”

“We could make it?”

Draco gave him a sharp look and seemed to withdraw from his vulnerable state into the one he’d had earlier. The hard shell that screamed and cursed. “Giving a dying man false hope is a cruel thing to do”, he said in a hard voice. His whole body tensing beneath Harry’s and legs twitching where they laid on either side of the vampire. 

“I can’t give you years, but at least some month as we figure out this mess.”

“What do you mean figure out?”

“Yeah”, Harry smiled sadly at the suspicion in Draco’s tone. “I’m not going to let you die…”

“So you will transform me against my will-”

“No. There must be another way.”

“Potter”, Draco’s smile held no warmth as he directed the cold gesture towards the vampire. “You said yourself that people had faded away in front of your eyes after getting affected of the Pull. Didn’t you try to help them?”

“Well yes-”

“Why do you think I will be different?”

Harry pondered the question a little while, playing with Draco’s hair while thinking. Draco seemed to visually force himself not to press up to his touch, a motion that calmed Harry greatly. At least he knew that Draco still wanted him. 

“Because”, he finally begun. “Most people who doesn’t follow the Pull and allows themselves to transform into vampires avoid me. Whole-heartedly and with the belief that it will pass. When I get to them, they’re usually already in the process of dying. I have never been able to be there all the way… But with you”, Harry pulled teasingly on one of Draco’s blonde locks. “I will be there and we will find another way.”

Draco stared up at him with scared eyes. As if he didn’t dare to trust Harry’s words, didn’t dare trust the hope of maybe surviving. “How long will I have?” Draco’s voice sounded small. “If we don’t find a way.”

“If you allow me to help prolong the affects of the Pull… Maybe three, four months.”

“Merlin”, Draco closed his eyes and seemed to visually pale. “Three months…”

“But we’ll find a way”, Harry said with a firm voice. “I promise.”

Draco looked at him with wary, eyes gleaming of unshed tears and his face seemed worn all of a sudden. “You have taken my dreams, life and body. Now you want my trust as well?” The blonde stared up into Harry’s eyes with a resigned look. “What’s next? My soul?”

“Oh, shut up drama queen”, Harry mumbled fondly. Draco smiled faintly at the small taunt and that gave the vampire a sense of hope. Perhaps things weren’t as bad as they seemed. 

“So what is it?” Draco wondered after a heartbeat of silence. “How do you do to prolong the Pull?”

Right, Harry guessed he had to tell him. “Since the Pull basically is there to increase the vampire population by turning humans into ‘undead-of-the-night’.”

“Undead?”

“Muggle reference. Anyway, the Pull will keep on urging you to let a vampire bite you by affecting you subconsciously. Dreams and weird urges etc. etc. BUT! You can fool the Pull that you’re being bitten and turned by being bitten but not turned!”

Harry finished his small speech and gave Draco a hopefully calming smile, even though he was pretty sure it looked more panicking than assuring. The blonde was going to have a fit, he just knew it. 

Draco seemed to work through his sentence one word at the time. Suddenly looking up with narrowed eyes that shone of suspicion. “Waaait…” He said with a prolonged ‘a’. “You’re saying that someone will have to drink my blood?”

“Ehrm… basically-”

“Not fucking happening.”

“Draco-”

“No I mean it”, Draco glared heatedly at Harry as he started to trash underneath the vampire. Obviously looking to escape Harry’s strong hold. “I’m not letting you fucking feed from me! I’m being reduced from a fuck toy to a meal! Not happening you stupid son of a-”

“Listen Draco”, Harry almost growled the words. “By letting someone feed from you, you’re fooling the Pull that you’ll transform. That way you won’t have to wake up without a neck somewhere in the next four weeks. We’re going to find a way for you to stay alive, but you need to be a little fucking cooperative then! Give us time!”

“You’re just going to turn me!”

Harry grabbed Draco’s flaying hands in a strong grip, forcing them over his head. He also laid down his body weight on top of the snarky blonde, pining him to the floor. The vampire shifted his hold of Draco’s wrist to one hand, while taking his right and tangle his fingers into that fine blonde hair. Jerking Draco’s head to the side, exposing a long pale throat in the process. Harry’s head dropped down and he laid his exposed fangs gently on top of Draco’s pulse point. Not breaking the skin, but letting the sharp edge rest against the warmth. 

“Draco”, He whispered quietly. “If I wanted to turn you against your will, I wouldn’t need to fucking lure you. I would just bite you and make you believe you want it.”

Draco lay still underneath him, his breath coming out quickly. 

“I honestly want to help you”, Harry whispered, replacing his sharp teeth with cool lips. 

“Sorry for doubting your sincerity”, Draco managed to sound both terrified and sarcastic at once when he drawled. “But it’s a little hard to believe you when you keep your fangs against my neck.”

“Not anymore”, Harry murmured, his mouth occupied with kissing the pale neck before him. 

“You’re restraining my persona”, Draco sounded less scared and more pouting. A good sign Harry noted in his mind. 

“Otherwise you’ll run away.” 

“And what does that tell you?” 

Draco talked too much. Harry moved up from Draco’s neck to cover his mouth in another kiss that had the blonde drowning at the end. 

“That you need convincing.” Draco just stared back at him with a dancing breath, looking dazed and equally mad. He didn’t get a chance to answer as Harry kissed him chastely once again before going back to nuzzling his neck. “Draco, please just agree, it won’t be much blood and if you hurt we stop.”

“I don’t want to”, but he sounded less certain than he’d done half a minute ago. 

‘He’s breaking.’

‘He’s coming around’, Harry corrected the whisper in his mind. And Draco was. The blonde bit his lower lip and even though he had a doubtful expression on his face, it was loads better than the outrageous one. It at least meant that the blonde considered his options seriously. 

“Look it’s not bad”, Harry murmured and nibbled gently at Draco’s neck, careful not to break the skin, just putting up enough pressure for a tingling feeling. Draco let out a muffled sound that wasn’t muffled enough to hide that it had been a giggle. Harry smiled wildly as he repeated the small gesture, drawing out another, more clear squeal of laughter. 

For being a Malfoy, Draco had a surprisingly bad poker face at times. 

“Come on Draco”, Harry whispered in his ear and stroke the blonde’s hip firmly. “Just try it once. I promise you won’t dream about death tonight.”

“The dead don’t dream.”

“Draco”, Harry felt tired. What would it take for the blonde to trust him enough to save himself? “I don’t want to hurt you. Sure I could hurt you, just like you could hurt me, but I’m not going to. Just as your Slytherin friends don’t hurt you even if they could, neither will I.”

“Why do you make sense?” Draco sounded defeated. 

‘Broke.’

‘Seen reason.’

“Why does everything you say make sense when you’ve killed me.” Draco avoided Harry’s eyes as the words fell from his lips like raindrops on fields in the summer. “Why do I want to believe you?”

“I’ve not killed you Draco. And I’m going to make right for what pain I’ve caused you.”

“So sincere.” He laughed dryly. “Don’t you have a rebellion to lead? Even if you wanted to help this one wizard – me – there’s hundreds of creatures that’s in desperate need of your guidance.”

“We’ll work it out.”

Draco turned his head and stared at Harry for long moments. His silver eyes drilling themselves into Harry’s green ones as the vampire met the gaze head on. Harry was sincere and he begged that his eyes would be able to convey that message. 

After a while Draco broke the stare with a tired exhale. His whole body relaxing as if all the fighting had escaped the blonde’s slender body. 

“Go ahead then”, Draco mumbled with a tired voice. His eyes closing as his hands unclenched. “Eat me.”

“Draco…”

“No! Don’t fucking say anything or I take it back!”

Harry stared down at Draco as he angled his head to the right, exposing that maddening throat in a close to sacrificial offering. His heart was beating like crazy, Harry noted as he could close to feel the faint breaths coming out of Draco’s mouth. He was scared. 

Harry didn’t want Draco scared. He didn’t want to want to drink the blonde’s blood, especially since they’d fought about it earlier. But things were different now he supposed. Because that had been before Draco had refused to turn. That had been when Harry honestly hadn’t considering the Pull being a problem. He should have known that Malfoy’s rather died than became something as ‘filthy’ as a creatur. But here Draco was, somehow invested in him despite Harry being a vampire… Here Draco was, displaying his throat to him…

Since Harry needed blood to survive this procedure wasn’t uncommon. Usually it was blood donors he dealt with since he held no regards for those of his kin who killed for the fun of it. Because vampires didn’t need to kill when they fed, that was just an old saying. But sure, there were those who still did. Or had done before Harry had taken over the position as Elder vampire. 

But now he would drink from Draco, for the blonde’s own good. It didn’t feel like he did it for Draco’s ‘own good’. It rather felt like he used the blonde. Draco would probably agree. 

The blonde shifted beneath him impatiently while trying to keep up the illusion of calm. Because Draco wasn’t calm, not if the quickstep from his chest was any indication. 

“Enough with the suspense, just bite me already”, Draco’s voice broke at the end. 

“Relax”, Harry murmured and stroked the pure-blood’s side. Lingering on the hot skin above his trousers with a delicate touch. Draco tensed at first, but as Harry continued with his caressing – going up to the blonde’s torso and back again in sure strokes – he relaxed. After a while his heart stopped hammering like it was trying to beat out of Draco’s chest and settled on a more erratic rhythm. Harry hummed in approval as he kissed Draco’s cheek, taking his chance of nuzzling the silk hair above the sharp face. His hand travelled lower and grabbed hold of Draco’s right leg, urging him to wrap them around his hips with lulling squeezes. 

Draco followed suit after awhile. Letting his long legs wrap around Harry in a tight grip. Harry grinned at the blonde as he with an easy roll flipped them around, settling Draco atop of him. 

The blonde yelped and quickly adjusted his legs to regain balance, ending up straddling Harry’s waist with his hands spread out over the vampire’s chest. 

“Wha-” He murmured with a confused gaze. 

“Relax”, Harry repeated and grabbed Draco’s hips to help the blonde remain steady. He couldn’t help but enjoy the view of Draco’s pale torso above him, slender but firm. 

‘You could have him wrapped around you.’

Harry ignored the treacherous thought and concentrated on the problem at hand. “Draco could I have your wrist.”

“My wrist?”

“Yes”, Harry rolled his eyes. “I can’t bite you without actually touching you.”

“But”, Draco stared down at him, his pale skin illuminated by the morning sun. “Aren’t you going to bite my neck?”

“No”, Harry gave him an easy smile. “Your wrist will do just fine.”

Draco shifted slightly on top of him, looking down at his hands displayed over Harry’s chest. His fingers moved carefully over the pale bronze skin and he smiled slightly. “Is this another ‘less threatening stance’?”

Harry laughed shortly. “Yeah, I suppose you could say so.”

He grabbed a light hold of Draco’s wrist and pressed a kiss against the warm skin. Draco watched him with narrowed eyes, appearing to be considering if running now would result in anything else than being pinned under Harry once again. Harry breathed lightly over the pulse point, sending cool gushes of air towards the heated skin. 

“Okay, just don’t rip your wrist away if it hurts. My fangs could slice it open if you do any sudden movements.” Harry made sure to receive a nod from Draco before he continued. “If it hurts, or if you want me to stop, just bang at my chest or something with your free hand.”

“Whatever you say Potter.”

“Harry.”

Draco just rolled his eyes. “Harry”, he mumbled as his whole body tensed in anxiety. 

“It will be fine”, Harry said before promptly sliding his fangs down Draco’s wrist without further ado. 

The Slytherin just looked at him with big eyes. Seemingly not believing what had happened in a matter of seconds. If Harry weren’t experiencing the sudden flow of blood in his mouth, he would have snickered at the shocked expression. 

As it was there was a warm, thick liquid filling his mouth. He marvelled at the taste, Draco tasted plainly delicious. 

There was something fresh and clean about the flavour that invaded his mouth, like a breath of cold mountain air mixed with the faintest notion of whipped cream. Nothing like Harry had tasted before and he couldn’t help but think the taste was just another thing about the blonde that screamed Draco. 

Harry swallowed slowly the first mouthful of blood in a soft motion. Draco continued to stare at him with big eyes, still tense but slowly relaxing to Harry’s delight. As the vampire sucked lightly on the wrist he allowed the hand that weren’t holding Draco’s arm to squeeze carefully around the blonde’s hip in a reassuring manner. 

“It doesn’t really hurt”, Draco whispered out loud. Harry just arched an eyebrow and swallowed another mouthful of the blonde’s crisp blood.

“I mean”, he continued. “Why doesn’t it hurt?” He stared down at Harry and moved his hand that wasn’t preoccupied towards the vampire’s face. Draco put his palm against Harry’s cheek and made a surprised sound. “You’re warm”, he mumbled. 

Harry dragged his mouth away after a final draw. Savouring the taste before pulling forth magic to seal the wound. Draco just continued to watch him as Harry studied the blonde’s wrist: a crescent scar with two bigger dots disturbing the close to smooth line was the only proof of the bite. But it would disappear in about a day or two; it always took some extra time to heal wounds from Dark Creatures. 

“There”, he muttered while releasing Draco’s hand. The blonde pulled the arm towards his chest, studying his wrist with curiosity. 

“It scarred!” Draco sounded scandalized. 

“Hush”, Harry only yawned back. “It’ll disappear in a day or two.”

“The fuck will I explain this while it heals?”

“Just don’t let anyone see it if it disturbs you.”

“Oh it disturbs me alright.”

Harry just stared at the blonde mounting him. Draco really was gorgeous in every single way. It was strange, even though they hadn’t known each other for very long; Harry had a hard time picturing a life without the snarky blonde. He couldn’t let him die, the mere thought made the vampire feel even colder than usual. 

He bent forth and kissed the suspicious blonde on the cheek. Draco just rolled his eyes as he rubbed the spot with a faint mumbling accompanying the act. He neither recoiled nor watched Harry with fright or anger. The simple gesture of trust made the raven-haired rebel leader laugh with a sudden relaxation. 

It somehow was a wonder that Draco still stayed with him. Even though he’d practically condemned him in some way – not that he would let anything happen to the blonde – and – like Draco had been so quick to remind him – he’d kind of used him pretty thoroughly of late. And still Draco trusted him. Reluctantly? Perhaps? But it was still trust none the less. 

“Draco, I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The blonde peered down at him and just arched an eyebrow. “Whatever you say Potter.”

“Harry.”

“Harry”, the blonde agreed. “Just don’t even think about going around saying you’ve shagged a Malfoy.”

“Why would I?” Harry sounded amused. 

“Because no matter how much you go on about this ‘not-claiming-shit’ I’m not fucking blind. This”, Draco held up his wrist. “Is your mark.”

“Come off it”, Harry murmured as he nudged the blonde so that he would dismount him. “I don’t have any ‘claiming-obsession’ as you like to put it.”

“We’ll see…” Draco got up from Harry on wobbly legs and the vampire was immediately there to support him. 

“Come off it”, Harry just muttered again as a treacherous voice echoed in his inner.

‘Mine.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ This is the last chapter in a while! A little peak into the mind of Harry, maybe things clear up a little bit as well! 
> 
> Until later! Have a continuing good Night/Day! 
> 
> Cheers!


	9. Fix you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks and blessings to Black.aj.Rose (ff.net) for the fantastic Beta! All remaining mistakes are my own.

“Draco… Where in the actual fuck have you been!” Pansy marched up to him where he sat at the Slytherin table, carefully eating his food. 

His neck hurt when he swallowed, despite Nem’s potions and tending the ache hadn’t disappeared completely. But Draco felt good, almost frightening so after three days of peaceful dreaming. He hated to admit it but Harry had been right… Being regularly fed from did make the dreams go away. The dreams about being eaten at lest. The ones where Harry shagged him senseless on the other hand… 

The vampire said that any attraction to him wasn’t something that the Pull fabricated, and sadly Draco had to agree. No matter how annoying Harry could be with all of his MCE secrets and Over Lord attitude he was damn fit. And close to funny at times… for not to mention strangely good at soothing. The Pull didn’t fabricate that. Draco’s feelings might have developed faster due to the magical manipulation, but they were still his.

He got a headache only thinking about it. These last days had been quite the emotional roller coaster. He didn’t even know if Harry and him had anything… Or? Was Harry his boyfriend? Was Draco the vampire’s mistress? And what the fuck would happen if his father found out he’d been shagged by the MCE’s rebellion leader?

Damn, he wished they served firewhisky in the Great Hall. 

“DRACO!”

Right, Pansy. Well damn, what should he say? Harry hadn’t mentioned anything about keeping quiet, but he really shouldn’t spill anything about Greyback or the Pull, Right? RIGHT?

Merlin he didn’t fucking know. But right now an angry lady called Pansy was walking up to him, fury radiating from her every step. The firsties looked at her like she was the hangman while the older students just kept well away, sending one or another pitying look Draco’s way. 

“Pansy, old sport,” he beamed, wondering why he was even trying to fake innocence to such a hopeless case. “You look truly marvellous this beautiful morning.”

Pansy’s eyes glowed as she stepped forth, Blaise appearing behind her with narrowed eyes. 

Great, Draco thought sourly. Why was I granted extra parents instead of friends? 

“What the fuck happened to you?” Pansy looked ready to strike as she stood before him, arms crossed over her chest. He was immensely glad that he was already hurt enough to escape that treatment. He tried to play on his wounds by touching the bandage on his neck gingerly with a soft whine. Draco made sure to widen his eyes to make the whole ‘I’m-innocent-and-hurt’ act even more legit. 

Not that either of his friends seemed to buy it. 

“Oh, drop it,” Pansy growled as she pointed her index finger rather hard in Draco’s forehead. “No acting will save your sorry arse this time.” 

“But I AM hurt,” Draco protested and opened his eyes even more. Forcing that puppy look to enwrap his whole face. Probably looking false as shit but he didn’t have any better ideas how to escape Pansy’s wrath so he went with it. 

“I can see that.” Her eyes scanned over his features with worry shining in them. “Who tried to behead you?” She nodded towards Blaise just behind her and they both sat down on the opposite side of Draco, looking at him intently. 

Time for the interrogation, he thought dimly. 

“No one tried to behead me,” Draco said with a shrug of nonchalance. Like the cruel marks on his neck weren’t the doing of a force outside of his control. They would blame Harry if they knew the story. Well Draco himself kind of blamed the dark creature but at least the vampire tried to amend his mistake. 

The words “three months” still echoed in his head from time to time, opening an empty space inside of him that swallowed all his emotions except despair. But he believed in Harry, because he couldn’t imagine not to. 

Three fucking months of what should have been centuries was a scenario he prayed wouldn’t happen. 

“Then who tore a big chunk of meat out of your neck?” Blaise asked with an icy voice, clearly not amused by Draco’s casual dismissal. 

Perhaps it was time to be honest for once. “There’s…” Draco began and felt actual nervousness inside of him. “There are lots of things I haven’t told you… Or told anyone for that matter.”

Both of them leaned forward with narrowed eyes, listening intently. 

“I’ve…” Draco found himself unable to speak because of the big lump in his throat. He diverted his eyes from his two oldest friends and dragged a shaking hand through his hair. “Can we please talk about this in private.” 

He just couldn’t do it. Not now, he would break down when the words “three months” fell from his lips. He would tell them of course, but not in the middle of the Great Hall. 

Pansy and Blaise, as the merciful and perceptive friends they were, just nodded. Even if Pansy looked honest to God concerned. The action made warmth spread inside of Draco and he decided not to neglect his friends as much as he’d done of late. They were after all the ones who might put flowers on his grave if three months was all he got. 

*

The meal finished up quickly and they returned to the common room. 

Draco felt a bit skittish and his neck had started to itch slightly. Not as bad as it had of late, but still noticeable. Harry hadn’t fed from him since yesterday morning. That needed to be fixed. 

Draco pondered if he dared expect the vampire to come to him, or if he should go looking, when Pansy jerked at the hem of his school robe, bringing him back to the current situation. 

They sat in the empty dorm, on Blaise’s bed. And both Pansy and the said bed-owner gazed at him intently. It was time to tell them the truth, no more lies. Okay, perhaps not all the truth but some of it. He knew how life felt without Pansy and Blaise beside him and he wasn’t keen on experience it again. 

“You know how I told you about,” Draco began as he stared down at his fiddling hands in his lap. “…Potter.”

“Yeah,” Pansy said softly. “Potter and the MCE. The rainbows and ponies.”

Draco wet his dry lips nervously. “Yeah… them. Apparently not all of them are so nice.” 

“Greyback,” Blaise was quick to say. Remembering Draco’s words about the attack with Dana. Merlin, that night felt like years ago. 

“Exactly,” Draco choked. His skin prickling at the mere thought of the large predator. But he was gone now. Locked in isolation or dead, which one of them Draco didn’t know. All he knew was that Harry had taken care of it. 

“Did he do this?” Pansy’s voice was low as her hand rose to graze his bluish and bandaged neck. 

Draco felt a moment of hesitation. Was it really okay for him to tell them about the Pull? As he flickered his eyes to meet Pansy’s and Blaise’s he realised that yes, it would just have to be okay this time. 

“No,” Draco’s voice was low. “He didn’t fuck up my neck… I did.”

Suddenly strong arms jerked him across the bed into Blaise’s lap and the taller boy forced Draco’s head up to look into brown eyes. 

“What do you mean?” There was real fear tinting his voice and Draco felt a soft hand on his back, Pansy. 

“I’m not suicidal,” he protested. Even as his mind buzzed of images of Harry, the deadliest creature alive. Perhaps he was… After all, Draco was dying. 

Blaise seemed to relax momentarily, even if the fear hadn’t disappeared completely. “Then why did you do this?”

Draco wanted to avoid staring into Blaise’s eyes. He would almost have paid to be able to jerk his head away from the firm grasp, but his neck hurt and he was still weak after Greyback, so he just sighed. He didn’t want to say this, but he had to. They were his friends. 

“I’m dying.”

There was silence. The only indication that either of them had heard him was that Blaise’s grip tightened. 

“Excuse me?” Pansy sounded choked. “What are you on about?”

“Either that…,” Draco continued. He just wanted this over with. “…Or I allow myself to be turned into a vampire.”

“Then turn.” Blaise’s voice sounded sharp, unyielding. The words hit Draco hard as his fellow dorm mate hadn’t even asked about details, just simply stated that Draco should turn. And into what exactly? A disinherited creature of the night? Something despised and feared? Something ruled by Potter. 

Well Blaise didn’t know that last one. 

Draco swallowed and shook his head. “No. Father-”

“Fuck your dad.”

Pansy gasped and Draco almost did as well. He stared at Blaise as if he’d never seen him before, perhaps he hadn’t. 

“What,” Draco’s voice sounded strange. Was he angry? He should be angry. 

“Fuck. Your. Dad.” Blaise clarified as his eyes drilled themselves into Draco’s. “You’re dying Draco and you’re throwing away the only lifeline you have for what? Pride?” Blaise shook his head sadly. “Screw family. At least you’ll be able to feel regret as a vampire, as dead on the other hand… You’ll just be, well, dead.”

Draco furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s not like I want to die-”

“Then don’t.”

“But,” Draco tried to push himself away from Blaise’s vice like grip. “I don’t want to become a vampire.”

“So becoming something else is worse than death? Come on Draco, even you’re not that foolish.”

“No Blaise you don’t understand.” Draco felt a familiar anger develop in the pit of his stomach and he latched onto the hot flames like a man to a lifeboat in the storm. Anger was familiar. Considering betraying his family on the other hand… The notion was outright frightening. “I don’t want to bow down to the ‘Elder Vampire’! I don’t want my parents to fucking resent me! I don’t want to live my life in darkness! Do you understand Blaise?! Because how can you even suggest-”

“At least you’ll be alive!”

“I rather die than become a blood sucking monster!”

“Then don’t,” Blaise abruptly let go of Draco and jumped off the bed to start pacing in the empty dorm. “Potter speaks of peace and equality.” Blaise said as he circled the bed back and forth. Pansy sat firmly in place, watching the two of them with wary eyes. 

Draco furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of where Blaise were going with this. “Well yes,” he responded vaguely. 

“Potter is a vampire and he doesn’t kill. I don’t think he would let any vampire kill anyone. He’ll take care of you. You’re friends, right?”

“Blaise,” Draco protested even as his mind seemed to warm up to the idea. No I won’t turn, Draco thought firmly as he felt Blaise words echo in his mind. He’d already accepted death or – if lucky – a cure, and here was Blaise telling him to turn?! They’d called creatures freaks a month ago, and now he was telling Draco to become one? 

“Draco, turn please.” Blaise had stopped his pacing and stood in front of him, his eyes begging. “If the only solution to this is to become a vampire then turn.”

“But,” Draco sounded breathless. “I don’t want to.”

“Draco,” Blaise placed a hand on the side of Draco’s face, pressing his palm gently against his smooth cheek. “What is worst? Becoming a vampire. Still being able to hang out with Pans and me in the night even if your parents might hate you, or dying.” Blaise’s eyes drilled into Draco’s. “There’s nothing after dying Draco,” he said in a sober voice. His thumb stroking over Draco’s cheek slowly. “That’s it. No coming back. No knowing if there’s something ahead of you or if you’re just going to end.”

“I won’t just end,” Draco’s voice sounded shrill. “There are ghosts here at Hogwarts-”

“Draco,” Blaise interrupted and gave him a long look. “The ghosts are remains of souls, they’re not the souls themselves. No one knows. You might simply cease to exist.”

Draco felt something fundamental inside of him shake as the black pit of despair that always emerged when he thought about death widened. He felt panic unfurl without being able to do anything about it. 

“I have to go,” he said and got up from the bed, slipping away from Blaise’s warm hand. “Sorry, but I have to think…”

He turned on the spot and left, not even checking if it was okay, just simply leaving. He needed to think, he needed to talk with Harry, but most of all… he needed to just be away from everyone at the moment. 

He roughly opened the dorm door and stepped out, slamming the door behind him and nearly ran down the stairs. He needed to breathe.

And what better place to breathe than outside?

*

After the sound of the slammed door had died out Pansy turn her head to look at Blaise. He stood beside the bed with fists curled along his sides and a hard expression etched on his handsome face. She felt close to tears, but blinked rapidly, keeping them from spilling. Draco was dying. Sweet Merlin. 

Blaise sighed deeply and slammed his fist on the bed, making a muffled thump sound in the room. 

“Oh Blaise,” Pansy said as she saw his pained expression. If she felt misery she could only imagine what Blaise must feel. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“He’s your friend too,” Blaise whispered as an ugly sob broke through his blank outer facade. 

Pansy shuffled closer and tugged at Blaise’s robe, dragging him into a light embrace. Blaise turned his head to rest on her shoulder as the sobs continued to wreck though his body. Pansy just stroked his back soothingly, remembering all the times she’d done the same to Draco. He was usually the one who needed comfort; Blaise had never needed it before. Blaise was the strong and silent member of their trio and to see him rendered to this broke her heart. 

“He’s so fucking stupid,” Blaise managed to get forth. “And now he’s killing himself.”

“I know,” Pansy replied as she stroked an awkward hand down his back. She wasn’t used to feeling strong shoulders in her arms, unlike Blaise’s Draco’s had always been slender. 

“I promise Potter has something to do with this… Why did he have to go make friends with the most dangerous vampire of them all!”

“I don’t know love,” Pansy hushed gently.

“And I haven’t even seen them together… I don’t know and he doesn’t tell. I mean is Potter shagging him?! Is he using him? Pans…,” Blaise looked up with pain lancing his tortured gaze. “…He’s the most powerful entity on the planet. I’m fucking powerless in comparison.”

“We just have to trust Draco.”

“Yeah, and how has that worked out so far? He comes back with scars! Scars Pans!”

“I can’t even imagine how you must feel.”

“Like I’m getting punched in the fucking stomach,” Blaise responded tiredly, sobs still wracking his body. Pansy felt like they would never stop. “What did I do wrong…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Pansy assured him even as her own eyes suddenly couldn’t hold back the tears. They started to slide down her cheeks in a silent journey accompanied by a slight tremble that ran through the Slytherin’s body. “It’s just the way he is. And that’s what we love about him.”

Blaise groaned as the sobs finally subsided. “And what a fucking love story.”

“He loves us too,” Pansy smiled as she wiped away her own tears with the back of her hand. “We grew up together, like family.”

“At least you love him like a brother,” Blaise only mumbled as he started to detangle himself from his childhood friend.

“I know love,” Pansy only replied and patted Blaise gently on the head. “I know.”

*

Draco collapsed beside the lake, leaning back on a tree close to the shoreline. 

He felt wreaked. 

Blaise’s words was still ringing in his head, “Cease to exist”. He supposed that he’d always thought death wasn’t really final, not for wizards anyway. As he’d lived beside ghosts since eleven and taken Divination classes, he’d just presumed that death was something inevitable that happened, almost like having a child or getting married. Sure it was life altering – especially since you lost your life – but you would still move on afterwards. Blaise had now presented him with the possibility of complete loss of soul and mind. And Draco felt like crying. 

He had always wanted to make his parents proud. But did he want it above living? Was he ready to sacrifice his soul for the knowledge that he at least wouldn’t disappoint his father? 

No. He was too free spirited for that wasn’t he? He could never be the bratty heir that Lucius had wanted. Since that accident with Buckbeak in third year he’d changed somewhat. Becoming less of a bully and more of another face in the crowd. He’d stopped teasing Granger and actually started to become a decent human being, at least according to Blaise. 

Why had that happened? 

Perhaps it had been when he’d been confronted with the possibility to end a life? To judge Buckbeak to death. He’d been repulsed by the mere notion of killing the bird-horse off. 

Not that he’d said that to his father when he’d pleaded for the damn creatures life. To be frank, he hadn’t even admitted it to himself for a long time. 

But he had chosen not to be the person who pestered his enemies and rendered groundkeepers to tears. His father didn’t know that, but he’d given up the Malfoy pretense that same year. Only keeping the aristocratic sneer and arched eyebrow at home, in the manor. 

He leaned back towards the tree behind him, relaxing against the rough bark and allowing himself to enjoy the newly risen sun. He closed his eyes and for a minute he just felt. The air around him was crisp and the grass underneath him slightly damp. The sound of voices was carried by the wind from the castle. Laughter from a bunch of firsties and a nymph. Calls from a young centaur as he seemed to raced with some quidditch guys. 

The impressions pulled a smile from Draco and even though it all was pretty and relaxing it was also unfair. So damn unfair. 

Three months. 

Should he turn? Right now he didn’t want to but then? How about when he felt blood leaving his body and life slipping away? Would he turn to Harry and beg him to bite him? Or would he die a saint’s death? Glorious and brutal? For a greater cause? Even if the cause was merely keeping his father happy, that counted for something, right? 

Three months was nothing. He wanted to be mad at Harry for this, he really did. But what good would it do? 

He sighed into the cool air and tried to memorize the sun warming his skin. If he turned he would never be able to be outside, never be able to feel like he did right now. If he died that would also happen. Only he wouldn’t be aware of it, or would he? 

There was some shuffling along the shore a few feet away and Draco opened his eyes. First he saw nothing, but then his eyes adapted to the brightness as he stared at the dark outline before him. 

“Hi Draco.”

Of course it was none other than Harry. 

Draco only grunted in response as the entity took a few steps closer and sat down beside him, casually dressed in a black t-shirt and muggle denim. Draco couldn’t help but appreciate the view of the vampire as he sat beside him on the shore like that was the most natural thing in the world.

For Draco the whole thing felt surreal. 

“How are you feeling?” Harry’s deep voice made Draco’s insides burn slightly and even though he’d been immersed in his thoughts about death, now he couldn’t recall the feelings of despair. Being close to Harry did that, making all thoughts disappeared to be replaced with something else… something like a desperate urge for closeness. 

“It itches a bit,” Draco responded slowly as his brain catched up to Potter’s inquiry. Naturally Harry’s ‘how’re you feeling?’ was alluding to the Pull, the one he’d promised to rid Draco off. It wasn’t like he wondered about the blonde’s well being. 

Though Draco had accepted – and to a certain extent even believed – the words against manipulation of any sort in accordance to a political agenda, he couldn’t let his guard down. Not when he was so involved with the vampire, emotionally and now also physically. 

“How much?” Harry sounded slightly concerned. 

“Not too bad… actually less than earlier,” Draco said honestly as his fingers brushed his neck with soft movements. 

“Being close to me reduces the Pull’s effect to some extent,” Harry replied as he turned to face Draco more properly. “That’s probably why your neck itches less.” A hand snuck forth to stroke the small stripe of skin between Draco’s trousers and shirt. 

The shirt must have ridden up when I sat earlier, the blonde thought as he stared down at the fingers touching his skin.

The cool fingertips felt close to soothing and he began to shuffle closer, suddenly wanting to feel more of the firm touch. 

“Confident, are we,” Draco murmured as he buried his head in the crock of Harry’s neck, the vampire humouring him by throwing an arm around his shoulders. The feeling the arm brought forth made Draco hum in pleasure and he closed his eyes in satisfaction. 

“Nah… I wouldn’t dare be too confident around you,” Harry replied with a warm voice. 

“Good.” Draco nuzzled the cool neck with a smirk as he enjoyed the feeling of basking in sunlight but remaining comfortably cool in the hot afternoon. 

They fell silent after that. Harry breathing slowly as Draco drifted off. Almost falling asleep at the spot but at the same time remaining aware of the vampire’s presence. The whole experience felt close to peaceful, the one thing he really hadn’t felt with Harry before. But now it was like second nature. As if the easy silence and assuring body contact was like balm for the soul. It felt like the first time in years where Draco could simply relax and let go as he melted into Harry’s firm body. 

The vampire began to stroke his hair slowly, running nimble fingers through it and massaging lightly. Draco felt himself make a sound close to purring and Harry chuckled slightly. The blonde wasn’t usually happy with letting people touch his hair – he had a thing for always arranging it to lay exactly as he wanted – but right now he couldn’t care less. Harry’s long fingers just felt too good.

“We’ve started searching,” Harry informed after awhile. His fingers continuing with their bone melting movements as his dark voice close to whispered the words in Draco’s ear. 

“Yeah,” Draco breathed back without opening his eyes. His mind was comfortably foggy and relaxed at the moment, which left him slightly slow on the uptake. “You’re talking about the cure right?”

“Exactly,” Harry answered as he nuzzled Draco’s hair. It kind of tickled in a good way. “We’ve found a lot of different leads and legends, but nothing concrete just yet.” Cool breaths played over Draco’s forehead as lips grazed him with a soft touch. “Nem is really invested. She’s even gone as far as to ask her old tribe to help.”

“The Wood Elves? But they don’t speak with wizards, let alone help them… Why would they-”

“She’s very persuasive.” Harry left a trail of soft kisses on Draco’s head while stroking his back calmly. “She’s bound to find something we can work on.”

“But why would she…” Draco felt something in his throat; it felt suspiciously like a big lump of Hufflepuff emotion just waiting to break loose. 

“Because she likes you,” Harry said as he did that lopsided smiley thing that Draco should be immune to but wasn’t. He felt his heart flicker and it begged him to relax and once again believe in that things were just as they seemed, without ulterior motives or ploys. But Draco wasn’t a Slytherin for nothing; which meant he didn’t allow himself to drown completely in the bliss that surrounded him. 

He snuggled a bit closer to the cold entity beside him. The very gorgeous and hopefully sincere – Merlin Draco wouldn’t be able to bear if it was a charade – vampire that the Slytherin had invested his life in. Sometimes Draco suspected that it wasn’t just his life he’d put on the line… Sometimes he feared that it was also his heart.

“I like her too,” Draco said as he closed his eyes and his thoughts. He didn’t have time to dwell on the impossible. He didn’t know Harry. The vampire probably had lots of lovers, powerful people usually did. Draco’s father had had some, just as thousands of other wizards around the world. His mother had known of course. But as many pure blooded wives before her, she hadn’t said a thing, content in the knowledge that she was Mrs Malfoy now and forever. 

“I like you too.” The words where whispered above Draco’s head and he froze at the sound. 

Had Harry said what he’d thought he said? Or had that been a trick of his imagination? He didn’t know if he dared turn around and ask… he probably shouldn’t. 

So of course he did. 

“Wait,” Draco twisted in the vampire’s loose embrace. “Did you just said you like me?”

Harry watched him amused. “Yes,” he said as he tugged at Draco’s shoulder, trying to get the tense Slytherin to once again lie down against his chest. But Draco was having none of it. 

“What do you mean?” His mind screamed at him that this was a bad idea. That he really shouldn’t have this discussion while his life was on the line, while he didn’t know if he could trust Harry or not. But Draco had felt content with lying in the vampire’s arms; he’d felt content with having Harry feed from him, he’d been content with letting the vampire shag him. 

They had been fire and ice from the start. Draco was tired with feeling content in his insecurities. Harry didn’t get to say that he liked him, not if he didn’t LIKE him. Draco’s heart and mind were too tired for casual words with different interpretations that could – and probably would – lead to disappointments and hurt. 

Merlin, Draco was just so tired of hurting. And itching. The itching was almost as bad.

“I said that I liked you, and I do,” Harry said and rolled his eyes. Yeah actually rolled them, like he couldn’t believe Draco needed clarification! Well maybe this… whatever it was – was a day in the park for Mr almighty-know-it-all but for ordinary mortals, like Draco, their relationship could be anything in between food to soul-mates! That was a rather large scale. 

A too large scale.

He sneered at Harry and shuffled away from the vampire. To think that he’d enjoyed himself, feeling close to happy just moments ago! 

“What?” Harry wondered when he noticed the blonde’s scowl. Draco just looked at him furiously. 

“What do you mean you like me? As a friend? As a great fuck? As some sort of juicy afternoon tea? Can you for one time in your life be clear with what you’re meaning?!” 

“Hey,” Harry had sat up straight as his hand kept a steady hold of Draco’s arm. “You’re doing it again Draco. Making things up, having a panic attack or whatever.”

“I’m not having a panic attack!”

“Okay but just listen, I like you. I thought you knew that, I don’t – believe it or not – have sex with strangers. I do not kiss people within minutes after seeing them for the first time. I don’t bring people to the MCE head quarters, no matter if their injuries are bad.”

“What?! So I’m special?” The drawl in Draco’s voice was filled to the edge with cutting sarcasm.

“Yes,” Harry’s green eyes stared into his with a warmth unlike anything Draco had experienced before. It felt sincere, it looked sincere and if Draco hadn’t been a Malfoy he would have accepted it for what it appeared to be. A love declaration. 

But Draco was a Malfoy and as such he noticed that even if the vampire liked him, he didn’t love him. Even if the blonde, with all his pale skin and delicious blood, fascinated Harry at the moment, there was no saying that he wouldn’t change his mind later on. 

So he silently cursed himself for digging his own grave as he relaxed against the dark-haired entity once again. Allowing himself a moment of lies, a moment to believe that this might be something more than an emotional fluke. He felt cool arms wrap around him as Harry once again embraced him and buried his face in Draco’s neck. 

The blonde shivered for a moment. “Cold,” he said shakily even as he knew that the tremble had come from everything but the cold. 

Harry just hummed against his skin. “Draco… I don’t know how much, but please believe me when I tell you that I really like you.”

“Yeah,” Draco swallowed as he felt the sweet words pour into his ears. 

“I shouldn’t like you. Because of the MCE and I am the leader and I can’t protect you… I can’t even protect you from me.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Draco breathed as he felt cool lips kiss the nape of his neck. “Didn’t you say that Nem was bound to figure something out.”

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled. “She’s unstoppable when she has her mind set on something.”

“Okay…” Draco mumbled as he once again felt the earlier peace return. The hot sun and a cool Harry was stuff for heaven. 

Three months. At least he wouldn’t have to suffer the pain of Harry leaving him if he died. At least he wouldn’t have to face his father after the betrayal. 

Harry took hold of his wrist and raised it to his lips, kissing the soft skin. “Does it itch?” He wondered with a low voice. Draco just nodded shortly, allowing the vampire to sink his fangs into him once again. 

The odd but not uncomfortable feeling made a smile tug at his lips. Harry began sucking slowly and Draco felt his body close to melt at the sensation. The itching was slowly disappearing and Merlin it felt good.

But in the middle of all the satisfaction of being turned into a meal Draco imagined what would happen if he against all odds survived without being turned into a vampire. Would Harry stay with him with intention of forever? Would they be happy for a while, enjoying life and each other until THE day? The day that Harry left him for a pretty lover who wasn't raised as a pureblooded brat that grew up hurting house elfs and believing that being different was equal to being dirt? Would he watch Harry be torn away from his arms without being able to do anything? Would he come crawling back to his father when he’d been dismissed like another mistress? Would his father even acknowledge him? 

The dark thoughts didn’t seem to end and it felt suffocating in the same way as the itch. Was this worrying even worth considering before knowing he would survive the Pull?

Three months. It all seemed to come back to that. Three months usually seemed like a lot of time, like an eternity. This time it didn’t. This time it felt like tomorrow. 

Even thought Draco lay in Harry’s arms at the moment, basking in the sunshine and the vampire’s embrace, he felt chilled to the bones. And the chill had nothing to do with Harry’s lack of temperature, and at the same time it had everything to do with it.

Three months. In three months Draco’s life would be altered, on way or another.

*

“You sorry piece of ass!”

“Okay Dana I’m sorry-”

“No you tosser! You don’t get to call me Dana anymore! Call me effing Granger you twat!”

“I doubt your sister would be very impressed by the words you’re spouting.”

“Like I give a flying eff about your earlier victims of bullying!”

Draco flinched at the poisonous words.

“Yeah that’s right,” Dana continued with fire burning in her eyes. “She told me all about her first and second year. About you being a brat with all that ‘Mudblood’ talk and the like.” The bushy haired firstie dragged a tired hand through her messy mane. “The worst part was that I defended you. Your effing lawyer against my sister. Do you hear me?! MY SISTER! I choose you over her! And you what?! Ignored me for a week as soon as your old friends take you back?!”

Draco winced at the harsh words. He hadn’t had time to think about Dana and his daily meet-ups in the library. There had been so much that had happened. “No-” He began but was swiftly interrupted.

“I guess that I was pretty stupid that I thought you – not only a sixth year, but a Slytherin, a Malfoy – would spend time with me! Mudblood, firstie and a Granger. Why did you even do it? Was it because of some sick revenge on my sister or did you just want to crush me?”

“Dana I don’t-”

“Granger! Call me effing Granger! If you’re going to bully me don’t you dare call me anything else than Granger or Mudblood!”

“I’m dying.”

Dana opened her mouth with a scowl but then paused. She looked at him with uncertain eyes, still full of hurt and anger but also of bewilderment. Her mouth opened and closed several times before a weak: “What?” slipped out. 

“I’m sorry Dana,” Draco whispered. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t think to owl you or talk to you… but I’m,” his voice broke slightly and Draco took a deep breath. Why did he feel compelled to cry every time he thought about ‘three months’ or the word dying? He pressed his nails into his smooth palm, trying to distract himself with the pain it brought. 

Dana was still only staring with a flushed face. Her small hands pressed into fists along her side and her mouth set into a mix between a gap and a frown. 

“Draco…,” she began with a warning lancing her words. “Don’t screw with me right now. I know that I’m young and just a bloody firstie, but don’t you dare screw with me.”

Draco couldn’t help the close to desperate laugh that tore through his throat. He wished he could smile at her and say something among the lines of ‘surprise’, taking whatever cold treatment Dana brought upon him and remaining alive. But this wasn’t some stupid joke. So he just pressed his fingernails harder against his palm and kept an expressionless on mask face. 

“I’m not joking,” he whispered after a heartbeat. 

Dana stared at him with less and less anger. The ugly feeling close to melting away from her features as she took in his sorry state and raw expression. Draco guessed he looked like despair personified. 

When her eyes soften and her mouth opened again with the small word “effling hell” slithering out, Draco felt close to grateful for stumbling upon her. 

He’d been on his way back to his dorm after hours of lying outside in Potter’s arms, sometimes sleeping sometimes talking. Not giving a crap about classes, because three months of life gave you perspective. He’d close to enjoyed life for a few blissful hours. That was until Harry had been summoned by some kind of dog-shaped patronus reminding him of a negotiation. Draco had tried not to hurt when the vampire disappeared seconds after the patronus.

He had already known that the MCE would be first priority to Harry. Always would be. 

It had been late afternoon and Draco had returned to the castle where he had stumbled into Dana.

Dana who he’d close to ignored after getting back together with Blaise and Pansy. Dana who had returned to the library every day while he just kept not coming. Dana who apparently had been told by her sister what an A-hole Draco had once been. Still was according to Granger. 

“How,” Dana had moved closer and Draco found himself looking down, down at her. She was so tiny. How long did she have before death? Centuries in comparison to him. 

“Potter,” Draco found himself whispering.

“What,” Dana looked taken aback as her big, brown deer eyes widened as the last remains of anger disappeared. 

Draco opened his mouth and told her everything. Just as he’d told everything to Blaise and Pansy that same morning. Dana stared at him the whole time. Grabbing his hand as she noticed the nails cutting into his palm. Forcing Draco to relax despite the urge to do the opposite. 

Dana knew about Harry… How Harry wasn’t just a friend but something more. It felt like a relief to tell her. Not about everything, but about a lot. 

“You won’t die,” Dana said as soon as Draco had finished his tale. “I’ll make sure of it! You won’t even have to turn into a vampire if you don’t want to!”

Draco fought the lump in his throat as he smiled at her. “Thanks Dana,” he whispered hoarsely. “But I’m unsure if anyone can help me…”

“My sister can!”

“Dana… I don’t think she would want to-”

“Yes she will!” Dana wrapped her tiny arms around Draco’s middle and hugged him fiercely. “I’m going to save you,” she declared proudly. 

Draco looked down at her and felt something warm his cold heart from the inside. Thank Merlin for Dana. “Oh Dana,” he whispered even as he tired to stay in character. He would certainly not do a Hufflepuff with tears and hugs and laughter. Instead he placed a careful hand on the girls back, petting her once or twice. Trying to convey at least a tenth of his stormy feelings. Dana seemed to get it as she untangled her limbs from him and gave him a beam. 

“My sister and I are Grangers,” she winked at him. “We’re the smartest witches this side of the century!” 

Draco couldn’t suppress a chuckle as Dana took a step back with eyes full of what could only be described as excitement, probably already thinking about thousands of different theories of how to reverse the Pull. 

“Meet me in the library tomorrow,” she ordered as she started to back away from Draco, clearly already going somewhere. “Don’t you dare not come,” she warned with a stern voice before giving him another beam. “Draco,” she said with burning eyes. “Don’t worry. We’re going to fix you.”

Draco couldn’t do much else than stand where he stood, fighting his own body for control of the giddy smile and teary eyes. Fifteen minutes with Dana felt like a year in the sun. 

Warm. Frightfully warm. 

*

The room grew quiet as a handsome man with brown locks entered through the far end of the crowded room. He made his way towards the front where another man stood with a straight pose. His long and fair hair was close to glowing as he bowed his head towards the handsome man when he approached. 

“Lucius,” the brown haired man greeted with a short nod before taking his place in the front. The quiet room seemed close to seething in anticipation as the newly arrived man turned around to face the crowd. He arched an eyebrow at the people before him, all of them wearing dark robes and faces filled with determination. 

“Brothers and sisters!” A dark and unyielding voice broke the tense atmosphere in the room. “It’s time to take action as the ministry have once again failed to do so!” 

There was now a low murmur of hundreds of voices, all in a notable agreement of the words just spoken. The handsome man flashed a small smile before continuing. 

“I visited minister Fudge earlier this day to demand that he free Hogwarts of its captures… and rescue our children.”

The fair-haired man called Lucius clenched his fist as he stared out into the dim room with cold eyes. “And what did he say?” Lucius asked with a hard voice. The people listening repeated the question and a worried wave of voices sounded in the room: ‘what did he say?’

“He said that our children will soon be freed! And you know why they soon will be freed?! Because the so-called MCE – the freaks – will let them go! And why will they let them go?!” The brown haired man looked out in the room that’d grown quiet again. “What would they possibly gain if they let our children go?”

“The equality act,” the voice of the man named Lucius cut through the now heavy silence. “Their damn equality…”

“No!” The shout was heard from the crowd and was soon joined by others. The sound of protests filled the room. “They can’t do that! Not under threat,” “They’ve taken our children,” “They’re freaks,” “Abominations,” “Monsters!”

The man in the front raised his hands with the palm towards the crowd, asking for quiet. His request was answered close to immediately. 

“Brother, sisters, I know,” the man said. “They’re polluting the wizard society with their presence. Demanding freedom only to slowly take over. To slowly put us beneath them! To first rule the wizards! Then the world!”

“NO!,” “We have to stop them!,” “I want my daughter back!,” “My son!”

“I know,” the man stepped forth, reducing the outcries to a low murmur in the dark before him. “I know! And I will have none of it! Last time when we allowed the ministry to handle the negotiations we lost a wizard, we lost Travers. Are we going to lose our children this time?”

A collective “No” echoed. The brown-haired man smiled coldly. “Let me deal with Potter! He’s not going to prevent justice to win this time! Follow me! Let us show the freaks why they should fear us! Why we wizards came to rule in the first place!” The man in the front took a deep breath before he shouted loudly: “Are you with me!?”

It took less than a second before the answer echoed with a force that close to shook the building “YES!”

“Then wait for my command, and we’ll bring down the Freaks once and for all.”

The people in the crowd bowed their head, many looking gratefully at the man in the front that now had turned towards Lucius by his side. 

“Do we have it ready?” He asked in a lowered voice, a hand firmly gripping the shoulder of the fair-haired wizard. 

“Not yet, but our brewers say that it’s only going to take some weeks… If it works this time that is.”

The brown-haired man released Lucius’ shoulder after squeezing it appreciably one last time. “You’ve done excellent work Lucius, I know you’ve had a rough couple of weeks with you son being…”

“Yes,” Lucius mumbled as his eyes grew cold and his pose turned rigid. “It’s been hard for Narcissa and I.” 

“We will free your boy, Lucius, do not worry.”

“Yes. Thank you Tom.”

The brown-haired man named Tom nodded before turning away striding through the room with his black cloak whirling behind him. 

There were plans to be made and vampires to slay. Especially one vampire. The one called Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it through! Awesome!   
> It was a while since the last chapter, but do not fear, I shan’t give up!
> 
> I’m so grateful to all of you who still stick with the story even though the now lack of updates on a weekly basis! You guys rock and roll in all the best ways! 
> 
> And new readers: You’re looking pretty rad ;) Welcome to Blood Bag! 
> 
> Anyway exams are once again coming up. So next chapter will probably be up next month, maybe longer (school is unpredictable)…
> 
> Have a continuing great Day/Night! Cheers!


	10. Bleeding out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks and blessings to Black aj Rose for the fantastic Beta! All remaining mistakes are my own.

Draco supposes he should have seen this coming. With all that had happened the last couple of days he supposes that he should stop being surprised. He stared back at the corner of the corridor where he without a doubt knew that Pansy and Blaise hid, following him from a distance. They’d done that a lot lately. Clung to him, stalked him and been an over all nuisance. 

The times when Draco had to sneak off to meet the Elder Vampire was becoming less of a stroll and more of an operation. Soon he’d probably be attacked with tracking charms so that his so-called friends would know where he went at all times of the day – and night. 

But before him was Granger. With her wild hair that of late seemed to have been tamed – at least somewhat tamed – and by her elbow lounged Dana. Dana just looked indescribably pleased with herself and kept sending Draco confident winks since arriving before him. Draco didn’t know if he should be reassured or freaked out. Granger, the older, was after all giving him a rather nasty look. 

“Malfoy,” she somewhat declared with narrowed eyes. 

“Granger,” he answered and desperately tried to hide his nervousness. Sure, Dana had promised some days ago that she would make her sister help him in the search of a cure but he hadn’t heard anything from either of the Grangers after that. Not until now. 

“Dana…” Granger had started speaking and did a vague gesture towards the tiny mini-Granger by her side. “…Told me the most unbelievable story I’ve heard in a long time.” Granger’s gaze travelled over Draco’s body. Lingering at his still bandaged and slightly bruised neck. “She told me that you’re dying because of some ancient curse, is that true?”

Draco scratched the back of his neck as he sent a small scowl Dana’s way. He was grateful that she was trying to help him, really. But was telling Granger senior the smartest way to go? What could she do except gloat? However, Dana just made a small jerk with her head, clearly telling him to get on with it and tell older Granger about his ‘condition’. 

“Yeah,” Draco answered after a heartbeat of silence. “I got it after being exposed to Mr. Potter’s presence. A con of being the almighty Elder Vampire I’ve been told.”

“Wait… Mr Potter is contagious?”

“Yes… Or no… It’s not really that simple.”

Granger arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the case. The case that’s my life, Draco thought sourly. He supposes he couldn’t expect any compassion from her, he hadn’t shown her any back then… rather the opposite. 

“Right,” Granger said as she tucked a wild lock of hair behind her ear. “I agreed to help you because Dana – for some godforsaken reason – likes you, but I want all the facts of what might have played a role in. All your interactions with Mr Potter, if he is the source of this…” She gestured over Draco, probably referring to his broken neck and now-a-days scar-filled wrists – not that he’d let anyone seen the wrists. 

“Sure,” Draco answered with a shrug. “Dana can tell you all you need to know.”

Granger gave him a long and searching look before turning to Dana beside her. “Dana, I need you to go and fetch that book I borrowed from the library.”

Dana’s confident face fell as she turned to her sister with a scowl. “Why?” She asked with narrowed eyes. “Isn’t that book in your dorm?”

“Exactly,” Granger answered as she did a motioned with her hands for Dana to move along. 

“No,” Dana shook her head. “Why don’t you go and get it?!”

“If you want me to help Malfoy, you do as I say. And don’t come back within the hour. ” Granger’s voice was unyielding and hard. Draco had no doubts Dana was the sole reason for senior Granger to even look in his direction with any intentions in mind beside hateful revenge.

Dana seemed to get that as well because she gave her sister one last frown before turning around and waving a quick goodbye before disappearing around the corridor corner. Leaving Draco alone with senior Granger and an ominous feeling. 

“Walk with me,” the Gryffindor said as she started to stride towards the outside of the castle. Draco was quick to catch up.

“So,” Granger said, giving Draco another once over. “Now I want you to tell me everything. And don’t you even dare lie to me. I can’t help you if you give me some holed-out version of the truth.”

Draco felt a chill run through his body. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please,” Granger looked at him with irritation radiating off of her. “I suppose that I’m grateful that you haven’t told Dana everything you and Potter have been up to, but you sure as hell will tell the WHOLE tale to me.” 

Draco only swallowed in response. “Oh yeah?” He managed to say in an emotionless tone. 

“Oh yeah,” Granger repeated before her eyes turned a shade softer. “Malfoy… I don’t like you. But even I can see that you’ve changed since before third year and that you’ve looked like shit for a while. Now, that doesn’t mean that I hate you less for the hell you turned my life into. But… I don’t make it a habit of watching people die if I can do something about it. Not even assholes like you. So let’s make a deal. I won’t tell a soul about you and Potter, but if you want help you’ll have to give me all the details that might have played a role in your current condition. And I’m talking about all details. Okay?” 

Draco looked at the witch, which he’d bullied and despised for what felt like so many years ago. And he felt a startling realisation that Granger might not be that bad. She was smart, smarter than him and she was clearly compassionate – if helping a former enemy counted as something. 

“Okay,” Draco responded, slowly lowering his guard, relaxing slightly. 

This might just be the most foolish thing I’ve done so far, he thought as he was about to actually hand over ammunition to someone who had all the reasons to hate him. The only ray of light in this risky dare was that he knew Granger was all for Creature rights. She wouldn’t want Draco to die, not only because her little sister would be hurt but also because the MCE was likely to suffer from it… Probably. 

“Did you have sex with him?” 

The question caught Draco off guard. “Have you ever heard of ‘taking it slow’?” He tried to hide the slight blush that for some goddamn reason decided to emerge. 

Granger frowned at him. “I’m not here for your sensitive feelings. I’m here to help. So answer all my questions honestly…. Did you have sex with Potter?”

“Yes,” Draco managed to keep his voice somehow emotionless, even though Granger raised her eyebrow at the answer. “But the symptoms had already begun before that.”

“Symptoms?” 

“Yeah…” And then Draco told her. The whole goddamn thing, without censoring anything out. Anything at all. 

In a way it felt refreshing to vomit the words out one by one, even relaxing. To finally be able to tell someone the whole fucked up situation without worrying about being judged or scolded. Because Granger didn’t know him, didn’t really care about him, and right now that suited him fine. More than fine. 

She dived into the details and pried an awfully lot, but Draco let go of his inhibitions and told her the whole ordeal. He didn’t want to die, perhaps more than he wanted to turn into a vampire. When he got to that part Granger gave him a sharp look. 

“So your price for surviving would be to turn into a vampire?”

“Right.”

“Then why don’t you?” She sounded curious. Draco had pondered the same question over and over the last couple of weeks and for every time he compared the phrase “cease to exist” with “never seeing the sun,” there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the sun couldn’t possibly be that great. Sure the threat of being disowned and hated was still present but it felt less and less intimidating. 

None the less, he would still rather remain human. “Because I don’t want to,” was his simple answer. 

Granger seemed to accept that as she asked him to continue with a nod. Which Draco did without hesitating. 

In the end they talked for over an hour, going over details that should have been embarrassing, but with Granger became facts and necessities. Draco also told her about Potter setting up his own research team and the Gryffindor was quick to ask if joining them would be possible. Draco didn’t know, and he told her so. But she made him promise to ask… and he would. The one-hour that mostly consisted of questions and answers had somehow made him develop a fragile trust towards the brown haired muggle-born.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, he thought when they with a curt nod split up. Granger heading towards the Gryffindor tower and Draco towards the two snakes hiding at the end of the corridor – Blaise and Pansy had apparently decided to become his personal bodyguards for the time being. Draco loved the two idiots, but rather than gratitude their behaviour felt suffocating, but he supposed he would have to deal with it… at least for now. 

*

Another thing that somewhat bothered Draco was that Harry and he had grown more and more distanced since that night in the private hospital wing. Perhaps Potter wasn’t all that interested after having Draco that one time. After the initial gravity to one another had died down. Or at least it had died down on Potter’s end… The blond didn’t know and would have liked not to care, but “not-caring” was becoming more and more difficult every day. 

The wound had also begun to itch more frequently as of late and he somehow had begun to feel a strange craving every time he saw Harry. He and the vampire had developed an easy banter between each other as well as a fairly touchy-feel habit but nothing more had happened. 

Draco was uncertain if this absence was something the vampire did because he was uncertain of Draco’s consent or if it simply was due to lack of interest. Probably the later. Harry was after all THE Vampire-Overlord-Potter. He probably had more beautiful and less complicated people to share his bed with. The thought made a strange lump form in Draco’s throat but it was nothing he couldn’t ignore. 

Draco took the last steps toward the room where he and Potter had their usual feeding-meeting and opened the door. “Hey?” Draco whispered as he took a quick look around the room. 

It was time for another feeding in the room Dumbledore had granted them access to. An interesting thing called the Room of Requirement. Simply put, it was a magical space that transformed into any kind of room you wished for. Be it a scrub or a hall. 

This time it was looking like a common room. A grand sofa in front of a fireplace and corners meant for study. Harry didn’t seem to have arrived yet so Draco simply strode into the room, placed himself on the sofa and breathed out. 

He felt tired after having to escape Blaise and Pansy who only seemed to grow more protective each day, refusing to let him go anywhere by himself. The only way to escape them was to basically sneak away, usually by sprinting and with the help of illusion charms. Both of his friends were always pissed when he returned but didn’t bother barking at him. Not after the first two nights, when it became apparent he wasn’t going to stop sneaking off to wherever. 

Draco dragged a tired hand through his hair, getting the strands out off his face. He really needed a shower. Preferably alone. He knew that Blaise just waited for an excuse to see how badly wounded he was, something he would rather it remained his secret. The bruises along his hips had at least faded completely, but his wrists looked raw. The marks of Harry’s teeth didn’t get a chance to fade before new marks where put beside them, making him look suicidal. 

The itching was getting to him as well. Some of the past couple of nights had been rough, rendering him unable to sleep as he continued to turn without finding a position that made the itch disappear. It was dreadful and even more so when it started to show in his appearance; tired eyes with dark circles underneath. The last time sleep had come natural and peaceful had been two weeks ago, after the quiet afternoon by the lake.

The same day that Harry had told Draco he “liked” him. What a fucking joke.

Draco massaged his temples as he tried to ignore the itch that had grown quite horrible over the day. 

Where was Harry? 

Usually when Draco arrived to the room, Harry was there, waiting for him or talking through the fireplace with someone important. Still, it was nice, Harry always lit up when Draco stumbled into the room and it felt surprisingly good to be at the receiving end of a fanged smile. 

But now Harry had run late. This was – Draco scratched his head as he thought hard – the second time he’d arrived before Harry. First time had been due to a meeting with the minister of all people and he had no doubt this time was due to something equally important. He would just have to wait. 

Draco settled down more comfortably on the couch, feeling the warmth from the fireplace lull him into a sleepy state of mind. Even the itching didn’t feel as bad anymore. Maybe he should close his eyes for a minute? Rest a little before Harry arrived? Harry with his crooked smile, gorgeous body and hopeless sense of humour. Maybe Harry would kiss him again? He hadn’t really done that since that lazy afternoon by the lake. Not that Draco really ought to trust the dark entity, but of late he’d started to relax, lower his guard. Started to feel something like a tentative trust towards the idiot called Potter. Draco hummed happily as he gladly forgot about death, revolution and fangs in favour of surrendering to images of green eyes and warmth. The lake had been nice… perhaps frightfully so.

“Draco?” The familiar dark voice made goosebumps break out all over Draco’s body as he turned his head sleepily towards its source. Harry. The vampire seemed to have simply appeared beside him, giving Draco a raised eyebrow. Draco couldn’t help but smile sleepily at the beauty before him. 

“’Ello,” he yawned. 

“Sleepy?” Harry asked as his eyes wandered over Draco’s pliant body. 

“Mm, the fire is nice.”

“Yeah?” Harry sat down beside him and Draco shuffled closer without thinking. Harry was there in all his vampire glory and his body just had to get closer to the black robes tangling around the gorgeous boy before him. Draco hadn’t made any advantages towards Harry, just as the vampire with him. That Draco now almost crawled into Harry’s lap spoke volumes about his state of mind. Sleepy that was. And apparently sleepy made him brave.

Harry froze for a millisecond. Not that Draco really noticed because right after stiffening the vampire seemed to melt as he wrapped his arms around the blonde snake. Draco hummed in approval. 

“’S nice,” he concluded and buried his face in Harry’s neck. 

“Yeah?” Harry breathed the words again, but this time they vibrated against the skin of Draco’s neck. Draco couldn’t help but sigh happily as one of Harry’s hands ended up running through his hair, untangling knots and massaging his scalp gently. Draco felt his eyelids drop.

He would probably fallen asleep if it hadn’t been for the damn itching returning. Harry seemed to notice that something bothered Draco. “Is it the itch?” Harry whispered.

Draco swallowed. This felt peaceful and he didn’t want to ruin it. He finally had Harry’s hand combing through his hair and the vampire holding him like he was something precious. He didn’t want this to end in the usual business with Harry simply drinking for a few minutes, saying a few bad puns and then be on his merry way. He wanted… Merlin, Draco didn’t know what he wanted, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. 

“Can you fix it?” Draco asked in a small voice as one of his hands – his left one – grabbed hold of Harry’s robe, almost as if to force the Elder Vampire not to move. Not to get those usual inches between them when it came to feeding time. Not to make this another clinic experience. 

“Yeah,” Harry breathed and Draco gave him a soft smile. He reached upwards with his right arm, the shirt already shuffled up to his elbow exposing white skin. Harry seemed transfixed at the movement, green eyes following the soft journey of Draco’s already scarred wrist until it touched the vampire’s cool lips. 

Harry stared at Draco with unusually big eyes as air emerged from the vampire’s slightly parted lips. “Draco,” he whispered quietly, almost painfully. 

Draco still felt sleepy but the odd ring in Harry’s voice made him snap back towards something reminding of awake. He stared up at the vampire’s bothered expression and suddenly felt awkward. He’d basically just draped himself over Harry. 

Fuck. 

Draco made to scramble away from the vampire’s lap. They hadn’t done this much cuddling in a while and maybe there was a reason why. Maybe Harry didn’t want to be stuck cuddling another teen with a silly crush – not that Draco was crushing on Harry absolutely n- (okay, who was he kidding he did have an outrageous crush on the dark entity). 

“Sorry,” Draco muttered as he threw himself out of the vampire’s lap, wishing that maybe Harry would stop his violent detaching and give him an explanation to the obvious rejection. Maybe that the whole MCE rebellion had just died very tragically or that Harry was nervous because he wanted to propose to Draco to go on a date. The vampire on the other hand did neither. He just sat there with a locked down expression, staring down at his hands, very much not appearing like the usual confident entity Draco was use to seeing. 

Draco felt pathetic. “Sorry,” he whispered again, confident in that the vampire’s enchanted hearing would pick up the word. 

Harry seemed to shake his head a little, still not meeting Draco’s eyes. “Nah,” he said with a slight crack tinting his voice. “It’s just been a lot happening.”

“Yeah…I heard that there was some kind of meeting with the minister yesterday?” Draco tried to sound normal; too bad he couldn’t remember normal or anything remotely close to resembling cheerful. 

Harry’s lips formed themselves into a tight smile; apparently the Elder Vampire didn’t do cheerful well either. “With a little luck we’ll end this occupation just before curing you.”

“That fast,” Draco said. Honestly surprised.

Harry nodded as he shifted away from Draco slightly. The subtle movement could have been due to comfort or anything really, but it didn’t stop Draco from feeling another wave of acheing entering his chest. 

“Everything’s coming together. Dumbledore and a few other professors have visited the Ministry…” Harry met Draco’s eyes briefly. “Soon students will be able to receive and write letters.” The vampire’s gaze slid away from Draco once again and Harry seemed to force himself to stay still. Like he wanted to be out of here, away from Draco but duty – and hopefully some well-placed obligation – made him stay. 

It was a strange notion to feel unwanted. Especially from Harry. It hadn’t seemed like the cuddling had been entirely one-sided in the beginning, but Draco had been close to sleeping and honestly he might have been fusing illusion and reality. Now there was a gap between their bodies and Harry still wasn’t looking at him. Fuck. 

Draco moved his arm forth again praying that the vampire would feed and take away the itch before disappearing. Harry glanced at his arm and took a deep breath before leaning forward, still keeping his body away as his right hand dragged the exposed wrist to his mouth as it had so many times before. He bit down and Draco close to moaned as the itch slowly faded away. 

Sadly enough, Harry pulled away early from Draco’s mistreated wrist, licking his lips clean from any red substance before placing the pale hand back in Draco’s lap carefully. The silence inhibiting the room suddenly seemed horrifyingly loud. 

“Granger wondered…” Draco suddenly said, more in desperation than with an actual motive. “… if she could join the ones looking for a cure… Nem and…” Draco’s voice weakened. “…the others…”

Harry looked up at Draco briefly before avoiding his gaze once again. Looking slightly to the left of the blonde snake. 

“Oh, of course,” he said. “We’ll talk to her.”

“Good,” Draco offered with a weak smile that went unanswered. Probably unseen as well since Harry refused to meet his gaze. Merlin, he’d really made things awkward hadn’t he? And since when had he become this bloody insecure? 

Draco’s breath trembled slightly at his next exhale; the room was too quiet once again. 

“I have to go,” the vampire offered after a few painful seconds of deafening silence. “We have meetings…” Harry did a gesture that could have been anything really as he stood up and walked towards the door. Not offering any bad puns about defiling Draco’s oh-so pure blood or about the sun giving him a burn (the last one had been particularly bad, especially since Harry did not get burned, not really).

But a bad pun or simply a good bye would have done wonders for the odd blackness that swelled in the pit of Draco’s stomach; but Harry didn’t turn around. He just simply strode out the door and left behind the feeling of wrong in his wake. 

Draco tore his eyes from the door and looked down at his wrist. It was littered with small jacks all over and Draco simply examined his most recent one before rearranging his shirtsleeve, making sure that it covered up all the little scars Harry left behind daily. 

 

The ones on his wrists at least didn’t hurt.

*

The next day was worse than usual. 

Because Harry…

Because sure the distance had been there since the night in that Hospital room but it had always been easier to blame it on Harry’s insecurities instead on his own. That Harry probably didn’t know what Draco wanted. That the vampire held back because last time they’d shoved their tongues into each other’s mouths Draco had had to bear the consequences. As in dying. 

But now it was quite obvious that dying wasn’t the only reason that something – which had started out as something as irresistible as an accio – now had turned to nothing. Nothing but silence and empty words and excuses. And Draco was fucked. 

Because Draco might have freaked out after the built up sexual tension had erupted into something… well something. But who could blame him? Really? He’d gotten the news like a smack in his face, the news of dying. So he was allowed to freak out and shove people in the chest and bawl his fucking eyes out if he so wished. And Harry… Harry wasn’t allowed to do this to him… not now. Not after afternoons in the sun and cool lips and secrets and being life changing in all the right ways. 

Also in all the wrong ways, a small treacherous voice whispered in Draco’s head. 

Draco latched on to the thought. Because Harry might have had his moments but without the damn Pull perhaps that accio enchantment that was them wouldn’t have been so strong? Maybe the fear that Draco with all right should have felt tenfold of that first time would have been stronger? Maybe if Harry had just kept himself in check? Maybe if the damn idiot wouldn’t have turned into a vampire? Maybe if he’d been an ordinary wizard? Maybe if he’d attended Hogwarts? Maybe if things had been easy? 

But it wasn’t easy now was it? 

Draco felt his world scatter a little bit more with each step he took the following day. Blaise and Pansy noticed of course but – Merlin bless their souls – they managed to keep themselves from interrogating him. Sure Blaise might have inquired if everything was okay but when Draco had only sighed in response he’d let it go. The lessons were a bore and in the middle of transfiguration Draco simply lost all will to do schoolwork. He was dying one way or another, so why should he do schoolwork? Why would he do anything that was boring and regular when he had a timer ticking down? 

If Blaise hadn’t somehow sensed something going on and excused them both from class, Draco might have broken down in front of the stupid Hufflepuffs. As it were, Blaise managed to drag him into the Prefect’s Bathroom and lock the door before the floodgates opened. Blaise had held him gently with stiff movements as Draco had cried and cried and cried. 

When Blaise had asked him what was wrong Draco had just responded with: “I’m dying or getting disinherited, I’m allowed to feel miserable.”

Blaise had rolled with it and whispered soothing words as the sobs had racked through Draco’s body. The breakdown felt like a relief in some ways. Like he’d just waited for this to happen because he was dying… but mostly he was heartbroken. The realisation that these tears weren’t because of his life ending but rather because of Potter left a bitter taste in his mouth, but there was nothing to do. Nothing but keep crying. 

The afternoon passed by fast after that. Perhaps McGonagall knew that Draco’s heart was soon to beat it’s final beat or perhaps she’d simply seen the unstoppable flood of despair in his eyes before he and Blaise had left the classroom, because they went to their dorm and no one came looking for them. No one actually came looking for them the whole day. A day that was wisely spent with Draco and Blaise staring out over the lake or up at the ceiling. Pansy joined them shortly after the last lesson, but instead of throwing a tantrum about how they’d “left her to mix with peasants”, Pansy surprised them as she quietly joined. Jumping up on Draco’s bed and falling into the comfortable silence as a fish fell into water.

There was one moment when the day turned to evening when Pansy had opened her mouth and asked: “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No,” Draco had replied and that had been that. 

The itch had come back, like a dementor, hungry to eat away at Draco’s soul. But the blonde Slytherin just couldn’t stand the thought of meeting up with Harry as usual. It made him feel close to physically ill to think about flickering gazes and rigid body language. 

Draco hated Potter just the tiniest bit because not only had he stolen Draco’s life but he’d also changed him. Made him into someone that broke down in the middle of class. Someone who thought and thought about what could never be. Draco couldn’t even remember the last time he’d laughed or joked or the felt confident and like himself. 

If Pansy and Blaise noticed Draco’s lack of sneaking off (and let’s be honest, without a doubt they did) they didn’t mention it. Instead they continued to be supportive by looking though homework or reading books. All while Draco continued to gaze at the ceiling or towards the now last rays of sunshine. 

And the damn itch just grew worse and worse. But Draco ignored it; knowing that he’d already missed todays meeting with the black-haired entity, so fuck it. He could survive one night without having his blood sucked. 

In the end there was no more to be said as Pansy returned to her room after hugging Draco long and hard. Patting his cheek with a sad smile before giving a similar treatment to Blaise. Not that Draco really cared. He was busy drowning in misery and an itch that had grown beyond frustrating. He tried to convince himself, as his fingers suddenly scraped against tender skin, that he had this under control. His hand, which had sneaked up towards his neck, without permission, was harder to remove than it ought to. It was like he wasn’t the only one controlling this body. 

But as the light faded and soft snores started to fill the room did Draco slowly drift away as well. He briefly entertained the thought of tying together his hands, just to be safe. But he was too tired and too drained that in the end, sleep won over the constant itching and he closed his eyes in defeat. 

Allowing darkness to invade his senses. 

*

The first thought that entered Draco’s mind when he woke up was: Fuck. And not as in the very pleasurable activity but more as in the sense of screwing up badly. Really fucking badly. 

Draco’s neck metaphorically screamed in pain as his fingers were working their way towards his carotid artery. Draco couldn’t suppress a whine of misery as his hand refused to stop. It just kept digging and the itch… The fucking itch. Merlin Draco didn’t want his hand to stop because if he just dug a little deeper the overwhelming itch would finally be scratched and he would be able to sleep and maybe be cured and maybe-

“Draco, what the fuck!” That was Blaise wasn’t it? 

“What’s happening?” 

“Oh Merlin is he cursed?” 

“So much blood… I’m going to get sick…”

Suddenly the quiet night was filled with voices. So many voices… but Draco didn’t care; all he wanted was to keep scratching… Just a little bit more. 

“Stop it Draco! CAN YOU STOP IT!” Strong hands dragged Draco’s hand away from his neck as Draco kept resisting. He just needed to scratch a little more.

“LET ME GO!” Draco screamed with a voice lanced with desperation and cracking badly. “LETMEGOLETMEGOLETMEGO!”

“NO Draco! You’re fucking killing yourself!”

“Somebody get a teacher!?”

“Why is there so much blood…?”

The voices melted together as Draco continued to fight against the hands that held him pressed to the bed. Against his dorm mates that forced his hands away from his neck that was literally throbbing with the need to get scratched. “LETMEGOLETMEGOLETMEGO!”

“NO DRACO!” That was Blaise yelling again. 

Draco’s head felt light and heavy at the same time as he fought against the half-a-dozen snakes that all seemed determined in nailing him to his bed. That his odds were against him didn’t seem to register to Draco’s brain as he kept lashing out with kicks and throws. 

“Draco what do you need!?” Blaise’s voice was persistant as the turmoil around Draco seemed distant in the wake of the itch that had turned into a throbbing need. Draco continued to trash in his bed as his neck hurt so, so badly. When Blaise shook his shoulders yet again and forced Draco to look him right into his warm brown eyes, Draco felt a moment of clarity in the haze surrounding him. 

“Need Potter. Get Lupin,” he whispered before the need to scratch, to tear, overwhelmed his mind once again. 

The last thing Draco heard was the sad whisper of “Stupefy” before it all turned black. 

*

“I can’t fetch Harry now. He’s in a meeting with the minister!”

“Ron, listen, he’s dying.”

“So the fuck what? A pureblood dying doesn’t affect us. And really shouldn’t be put above our cause.” 

Draco’s neck pounded and he dimly noted restrains cutting into his wrists and ankles. What had happened? 

No sooner had the thought left his mind before an overwhelming need coursed through his body. His neck was on fucking fire. Draco couldn’t suppress a scream as his body tried to break free of its restrains. This fucking agony was beyond anything he’d felt before. It wasn’t just pain it was an unsatisfied need coursing through him. He had to scratch. He had to fucking tear the skin away until the itch stopped. But the restraints were strong. Draco couldn’t move his fingers an inch. 

“LETMEGOLETMEGOLETMEGO!” The words tumbling from his lips barely sounded human at all. It resembled a possessed Dementor’s twisted shout more that anything. If Draco hadn’t been so gone he might have felt goosebumps all over his body. 

“Draco, Draco calm down. We’ll get you help hold on.” The soft voice belonged to Lupin. A seemingly tired Lupin and worried – if his voice was any indication. Not that anything of that really registered to Draco because the haze of pain and raw need surrounding him was only growing stronger. 

“SCRATCHSCRATCHSCRATCHPLEASETEARMYTHROATOUT!” 

Draco dimly heard the sound of a sharp breath being inhaled through the poisonous words falling from his lips. 

“Lupin, he’s fucking gone. Whatever ‘cure’ Nem and Harry have been working on… it’s too late.”

“No, Harry won’t let Draco slip away.”

“Draco is it?”

“Ron!” The dull thud of a chair falling over was heard through the howls of pleas that wouldn’t stop pouring from Draco’s mouth. “Get Harry now! We don’t have time to fucking chat. Malfoy is dying!” 

“Harry’s in a freaking meeting. An important one. About your future, my brother’s future and a whole world’s future! This… Malfoy isn’t good for Harry. He’s a fucking pureblood that’s taking up too much time and makes Harry focus on the wrong fucking things.”

“Draco’s not like his father.”

“Doesn’t matter if he’s a muggle or a freaking unicorn. He’s distracting Harry!”

“He’s dying.”

“Well too bad.”

“Ron…” There was a pause and then the soft tunes of Lupin’s voice drifted through the howls and haze around Draco. “This revolution… This so called rebellion isn’t about death and power. Harry made that clear before any of this started. You agreed to it, I agreed to it, we all did. And now someone is dying and while this meeting might be important for our cause – a cause I’ve fought for decades before you were even born – that’s still not a strong enough reason to let lives go to waste.”

“I disagree.” 

“That may be, but I don’t think it’s up to you to decide for Harry.”

Their voices drifted off for a moment and then there was a door opening and closing. Draco wanted to reach out, cry for help but all that poured out of his mouth were words about tearing and ripping. His body continued to twist and jerk in his restraints that held strong despite the strain. 

“Draco, calm down,” the low voice belonged to Lupin and Draco felt a warm hand stroking his forehead. He turned into the soft touch and tried to angle his head so that the soft fingertips would rub against his raw neck. A low whine emerged from his lips. 

“Harry will come,” Lupin continued as his hand petted Draco’s forehead, not nearing his throbbing neck. “Just hold on a few more minutes and Harry will come.”

Draco’s voice was hoarse and even though the howls had turned to whines he managed to rasp the word “tear” to Lupin. The werewolf didn’t answer his plea but just kept stroking his damp hair with soft movements. 

Draco felt empty as they waited for what felt like hours. The only thing coursing through his mind being pain and the need to tear at his neck that was so close but yet so far away. After a while of twitching around on the hard bed did Draco start jerking his head back and forth, somehow creating the tiniest hit of friction with the desperate movement. That his spine started to snap and hurt was a minor detail. 

Lupin tried talking to him first. Whispering words like “calm down” and “you’re hurting yourself” but without any result. Because Draco didn’t care about Lupin right now, nor did he care about Harry really. All that filled his mind was thoughts of tearing and getting rid of the worms that seemed to crawl on the inside of his neck. 

Lupin whispered at last some words underneath his breath and Draco found himself unable to move his head. Draco wanted to scream in despair as he was denied even the slightest friction against the crawling inside his neck, but all that his broken voice managed was another whine. 

“Harry will be here soon,” Lupin promised again as Draco continued his endless murmur of pleas while jerking his wrist against ropes or binding spells, whatever kept him trapped. “He’ll make it better, he’ll help you.” But the wolfs voice was filled with sadness and even though Draco couldn’t think the hopelessness inside of him grew.

*

The first thing that Draco became aware of as he awoke from his haze was the itch being as good as gone. Instead of the crawling of imaginary worms there was a soft pressure resting against his neck. A pressure that slowly but surely made the shadows of madness disappear from Draco’s mind to be replaced with thoughts. Clean and sane thoughts. Thank Merlin. 

He tried to remember what had really happened. He’d woken up in the middle of the night with his hands digging at his throat, right… Because he’d been stupid enough to skip meeting up with Potter. 

He sighed happily into the darkness around him as his hands had stopped their twitching and his body rested heavily against the bed he seemed to lay in. 

The rest of the night was a haze really. A haze of madness and the terrifying need that had rendered his consciousness to that of a possessed man. Draco shivered slightly as he tried to remember anything but the desperation drowning him, but nothing came up except the vague notion of warm hands caressing his forehead.

Maybe it would be better to turn into a vampire, Draco thought, because he’d been about to die by his own hand and if the fiery need to tear his own throat out hadn’t disappeared he might have actually succeeded and signed off this earth earlier than predicted. 

But… The need had disappeared. 

Draco felt another slow tug at his neck and opened his eyes slowly. 

The only one able to make the itch stop was Harry. So where was Harry?

Draco allowed a pitiful whine to emerge from his throat as the dark-haired head that nuzzled against his neck rose. 

Potter… but of course. 

The vampire looked just as devastatingly beautiful as always, the only thing different with the entity before him was Harry’s easy smile… or rather the lack of it. To be totally honest, Harry almost looked ready to break down and cry. A highly unusual sight as far as Draco knew. 

“Hey,” Draco managed as his eyes traced the red liquid smeared over Harry’s lips. If this had been a week ago Draco might have been pissed about Harry feasting from his neck, as it was now he was simply grateful to be rid of worms and fire. 

“Draco,” Harry’s voice sounded broken. Even though perhaps Draco – as the smug brat he’d once been – should feel glad that the boy who haunted his mind daily had had a minor break down… he didn’t. If anything he felt a worried ache in the middle of his chest and if there had been any doubt about him being in love with this strange, strange man they were gone now. He would probably fight that thought later, when he wasn’t recovering from a near death experience, but for now he surrendered to the warmth inside of his chest. 

“Draco,” Harry repeated again. And before Draco knew it, bloody lips were pressed against his own in a chaotic picture of desperation. He barely had time to lean into Harry before the vampire’s lips were gone, leaving behind the metallic taste of blood… his blood. 

“Harry?” Draco asked as he felt another wave of disappointment threaten to drown him. “Please don’t.” He finished as the shadow of the entity came into view once again. “Please, please don’t.” 

Malfoy’s ought not to beg or plea. Strangely enough that rule didn’t apply to Harry, but then again, not everyone was the most powerful entity walking this earth. Not everyone led a revolution with the goal to change the world. His mom had once said that Draco always wanted the things he couldn’t have. He laughed bitterly in his thoughts as he realised with a start just how right she’d been. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered as his cool hand connected with Draco’s cheek. “Fuck,” he mumbled as the hand stroke down from Draco’s high cheekbone to his jawline. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Draco allowed himself to relax into the caress before forcing his eyes to meet with Harry’s. “I don’t understand you,” he whispered with a wavering voice. “I really don’t understand you at all.”

Harry laughed bitterly. “Well, you’re not exactly simple either.”

The Slytherin felt vulnerable as he lay weak on the bed in the, yeah, ordinary Hospital Wing this time. Harry stood over him with a broken expression and somehow distant body language despite the hand resting on his cheek. 

“Do you like me?” Draco asked as he grasped for anything to make the growing hole inside of him stop hurting. “You said you liked me at the lake.”

Potter didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. The way his eyes avoided Draco’s was enough of an answer.

“Oh,” the Slytherin breathed as he laughed humourlessly in the suddenly cold room. “Yeah I figured.” Because Draco had figured. Because even since that sunny afternoon at the lake, ever since their fling – that obviously didn’t mean anything – Harry had made it clear in every way that maybe he regretted fucking a pure-blood. Maybe he didn’t have time for a relationship and even if he had it wouldn’t be with Draco. 

Because Draco had school, Harry had the MCE. And if that difference didn’t say it all, nothing would. 

Well, there are worse ways to have lost your virginity, Draco thought to himself in a pathetic attempt to get over the crushing pressure that made it hard to breath. Because Harry – no, Potter – and him had fooled around and Draco had had a bit of a crush on the dark entity but that was it. Potter would fix whatever damage he’d caused Draco and then they would go their separate ways. And if there was no way to ‘fix’ said damage… Well right now death might be preferable than to have Potter as a leader for the next centuries. 

Death would be preferable to witnessing Potter meeting someone non-pure-blooded. Someone beautiful. Someone just right for Harry Potter in all of his vampire glory. 

The mere thought of a faceless beauty enwrapped in Potter’s arms made Draco want to shrink into himself and vanish. Death in about two months might be the only thing saving his heart from destruction. 

Wow, perhaps crushing was too small a word for whatever he felt for Potter. Draco made a note to himself not to – under any circumstances – examine that thought further. 

“Draco,” Potter sounded close to crying again. But why would he? Why did he care so much? It would probably be easier if he didn’t act like he cared. “I don’t care what happened…” Potter continued, “…why you couldn’t come yesterday evening. But you have to meet up with me.” The grip on Draco’s chin tightened. “We’re fighting the Pull, but you can’t skip out on me like that.” 

“Potter,” Draco was tired. He knew he’d screwed up – really he did – but right now he didn’t want to face Potter. 

“Harry,” Potter insisted with frustration etched on his face. 

“Potter,” Draco just pushed on, not bothering to meet Potter’s eyes as his gaze drifted towards the grand ceiling of the Hospital Wing. “I won’t skip out again. Can you just…” Draco’s head jerked towards the door’s general direction. “… leave.”

“Draco.” And yeah, Potter had the guts to sound sad at the dismissal. The beautiful-out-of-his-league-entity actually seemed upset about being dismissed by his one-night-stand-gone-wrong. 

“No Potter...” Draco sighed deeply as he once again looked into forest green eyes reminding him of what – in another world – might have been. “Just give me this, yeah? Just give me the dignity of breaking down alone.”

Potter swallowed. “No Draco,” he protested with a hint of desperation colouring his words. “You don’t have to break down, we’re on our way to find a cure and Granger is brilliant and Nem got the elves to help-”

“I’m not breaking down because I’m dying, I’ve done that already.” If Draco sounded slightly pissed Potter only had himself to blame. 

“But-” 

“Potter,” Draco avoided the entity’s eyes once again by staring past the dark-haired beauty’s shoulder. “Go away… Please?” 

Potter fell quiet as he stood still beside Draco’s bed. No doubt watching the Slytherin with apprehension and perhaps defeat. “I don’t understand you.” He finished before disappearing. But not before tearing Draco’s heart apart – again – by giving the blonde snake a quick peck on his forehead. 

Draco managed to hold the tears at bay a minute or two, trying to make sure that Potter really had disappeared. Not that he could be fully sure when the Elder Vampire could hide in shadows and control the night. 

He gingerly touched his neck that still felt raw underneath the scar formed by fangs. The reminders that Potter left on his body were both a relief and a curse. 

After a while, when he decided that Potter was well and truly gone, Draco lowered his walls. This once he would allow himself to feel the love he held for Potter, just this once would he pour his crushed emotions out onto the cold hospital floor. Then he would be done, done with Potter, done with being in love and done with trying so hard for something that wasn’t meant to be. 

Potter didn’t like him, just as Draco had suspected that first afternoon by the lake. Sometimes he really ought to listen to himself. 

So Draco broke down. Right there in the empty Hospital Wing. He cried, and he cried. He cried because of what Potter and him had had, no matter how fucked up it had been. He cried because somehow he’d loved Potter, even just a little bit. And he cried because of Potter feeling obligated to care when the vampire so obviously just wanted to be rid of him. Yeah, simple and short, Draco cried. 

*

Last night I dreamt  
That somebody loved me  
No hope no harm  
Just another false alarm  
– The Smiths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello there x) If there is anybody out there? 
> 
> I know that this has been a long time coming and I mean a really long time coming. But stuff has happened. I’ve moved to a new city, been around the world while studying at the same time. Yeah… I’ve been keeping busy. Usually I only write during the summer holiday, because then I have time to write and release one chapter every second week. So I’m probably going to finish this fic this summer (not before) and maybe be able to release one or two more chapters before summer 2016 (it all depends on school and my life really).
> 
> So I’m not quitting this fic! I will stay with it to the bitter end! Hopefully you guys will too x)
> 
> Because there was a while since I updated the story, mistakes might have been made story-wise and if you find any I would be delighted to know! Also if you find anything else you would like to comment on! Feel free to! After all, it’s you guys that keep me going!
> 
> Until next time! Have a continuing great night/day!


	11. Almost

 

It was perhaps not getting better or less painful. But Draco had finally accepted it, after weeks of doubt eating away on his mind, he’d finally accepted it. 

Potter wasn’t interested. Brutal, short and somewhat underwhelming in it’s simplicity. But it was nerveless the truth. 

It was in a way a relief to embrace the notion, a relief to meet up with Potter without the pretence of being alright, a relief to allow quiet to roam instead of misguided conversations that in the end would lead to nowhere. Sure it still made his stomach turn every time he saw the vampire. Always beautiful and collected with that shadowlike hair falling around his face as natural as a waterfall. But at least Draco was no longer searching for signs that weren’t there. At least Draco’s eyes didn’t meet Potter’s in a hopeless search of what was never going to be.

That the small talk had subsided was just another bonus. 

Sure, Potter had tried keeping up with the pointless words like that first time after the hospital wing. During their “feeding-time” he’d tried to crack a joke even though his eyes had watched Draco closely, shining of wariness. Instead of responding in kind, Draco had just silently begged Potter to get it over with and a sense of relief had appeared in vampire’s face. The Elder Vampire had thereafter made a hasty retreat after drinking a mouthful, not even glancing back while close to running out the door. 

The first time Draco’s chest had ached, even though he himself had been the one requesting the efficiency. He’d just not expected the vampire to be quite so happy to be “let off the hook” so to speak. Draco had – despite his decision of giving up on Potter – still believed that just maybe the vampire had at least enjoyed his company. Wrong, obviously, and perhaps that was as well. 

Now, their meetings were quick without anything but drink and be gone. 

Blaise and Pansy had settled down as well. They’d been mad when they’d collected him from the hospital the day after, what Draco had begun to call, his “Hufflepuff-lapse” (honestly, who else would be stupid enough to skip life-necessary-itch-revocation because of emotions?). Their yells had probably been loud enough to reach outside of the castle but it was the hurt etched into their faces that had left Draco’s heart drowned in remorse. Draco had wanted to come clean to this duo of surprisingly (or after all this perhaps not so surprisingly) caring friends, but he just couldn’t make himself do it. To open his mouth and spill out the words about how he’d basically swooned into Potter’s arms and gotten a lethal curse as thanks for his troubles. So instead, he’d asked them to let him leave without following him the next night, answering Blaise’s protests with a monotone: “so last night won’t repeat itself”. It had settled the argument about Draco’s whereabouts, a small and sour but somehow necessary victory in all the battles he was loosing daily. 

And every day the clock kept on ticking.

It all seemed a bit much at the moment and Draco felt… empty. He just wanted everything to return to before the MCE rebellion had occupied the school, before he’d met Potter and especially before he’d been hit with the Pull. It was hard to tell what was worse these days, the itch or the longing to see Harry, not the strangers they had become, but the friends they’d kind of been. He tried to suppress his feelings, naturally, but it was hard. Especially at night when he still had dreams that tore down the walls he’d built during the day. Sure, it helped that Potter now was cold and quick during their meet-ups, behaving nothing like Harry and instead as an Elder Vampire and rebellion leader. It made Draco able to separate the two, Harry whom he might have fallen for (or if he’s honest: had fallen for), and Potter who led a rebellion and didn’t have time for something as trivial as feelings. 

Life wasn’t good. But at least it was bearable.

*

Potter took a last mouthful of Draco’s blood before he slowly separated himself from Draco’s thin wrist. The dark entity gave the Slytherin’s scarred skin one last, almost longing look before turning around without meeting Draco’s eyes. The blonde watched how piercing green eyes, dark robes and even darker hair seized to exist in a swirl of magic. 

A pang of sadness wanted to tear a hole in Draco’s chest, but he firmly forced the sharp claws back behind walls of steel. Potter hadn’t uttered a word to Draco; he’d simply appeared, inhaled some mouthfuls of blood and disappeared. All under five minutes. 

The blonde slowly got up from the couch he’d been sitting on during the “feeding”. He stretched his back before picking up his bag from the floor, heading towards the door and going through it, out of the Room of Requirements. 

Another feeding done, another moment in Potter’s grand presence, done. 

Draco closed the door after he’d stepped through with care. Watching in slight fascination how the door melted together with the wall until nothing indicated that there had ever been a door, much less a magical room. He hefted his bag up onto his shoulder with a tired huff before starting to make his way towards the Slytherin common room on slightly shaky legs. 

It was strange and a bit scary how Draco had started to become weaker. It was as if he one day suddenly had awoke with a reduced strength in his arms, legs and torso. Now he had this tremble in his hands all the time, making it close to impossible to hold a quill, much less write. If it weren’t for everything else that happened, Draco would probably have worried more about his fading strength, as it was he’d just accepted it. And sure, he had a slightly horrific suspicion that soon he’d probably not be able to walk… But in the light of dying… immobility didn’t seem too bad.

He’d told Granger, naturally, since she was the only damn person working on his “cure” that he could actually get a hold of. He’d told her in short, stiff sentences about his current issues with using utensils and writing. Granger had looked concern at the news and Draco could swear he’d heard her mumble “running out of time,” something that triggered another damn panic attack and another visit to the hospital wing.

At least she’d said they would look into it, when she’d visited him lying exhausted in the hospital bed. They, Draco could only presume mean she and the MCE team Nem had put together. The team that hadn’t done any progress of what Draco was aware of, because every time he’d asked the frizzy haired Gryffindor for a report she’d responded with “we’re getting there”. He wished that maybe he’d been able to speak with Nem instead of having to run to a Lion to get information regarding his chances of survival, but alas… He hadn’t seen Nem in forever, and neither Lupin. Actually, DADA classes were on hiatus until Lupin recovered from his supposedly fling of Spattergroit. A cover story no doubt, but why Lupin would need a cover story Draco had no idea. Surely he’d recovered from Greyback’s onslaught by now… and… 

…Now, Draco wasn’t sure, but he seemed to remember Lupin being there during the night of his Hufflepuff-laps. When he’d laid in bed, delirious with the need of having his blood consumed. But sadly, everything from that evening was blurry and overshadowed by the need that had echoed through his core during those painful hours. But even though Draco had been out of it he could’ve sworn that Lupin had been there, comforting him, in the wait for Har- Potter. 

He longed to speak to the wolf. Somehow Lupin had become one of the few firm constants in his life since this whole freak show had started, the freak show being his life. 

Draco took another turn in the close to abandoned castle, the dark corridor bringing forth a sense of freedom in the usual prisonlike existence he found himself in. It felt calming to have the castle to himself for once, without any milling students that disrupted the silence nor any creatures that reminded him of the invisible clock ticking right above his head. 

The corridor split into two and Draco automatically chose the right one towards the dungeons, being half aware of his surroundings as his mind drifted off in thoughts about blood, time and Potter (because when didn’t he think of Potter? Honestly). So it wasn’t really strange that he didn’t notice the shadow moving closer until he ran into it. 

“Ompf,” he breathed out as he bounced back from the solid chest that had appeared before him. “Excuse me?” Draco mumbled as he rubbed his hurting nose while taking a step back.

“No worries,” the voice sounded dark and raspy and a bit predatory. Draco immediately raised his guard as well as his gaze. The man before him was tall and dark haired with close to glowing white skin. Draco had barely spotted the man before his brain labelled the stranger as a vampire. Because he so obviously was, a vampire that is, with his red eyes, dark attributes and swirling robes. 

“Oh,” Draco dumbly found himself saying as he stared into red eyes. “Vampire…”

“Well, yes actually,” the vampire replied with a smile that showed off gleaming fangs. “Not a very brilliant observation since I’m fitting the standard vampire better than most of us.”

Draco only nodded dumbly as the stranger – vampire – took a step closer. 

“Right,” Draco said as the word ‘flee’ repeated itself over and over in his mind. The only odd thing was that while his mind screamed ‘run’ and ‘escape’ his body drew closer to the vampire despite the growing panic threatening to choke him. The feeling was nowhere short of terrifying as he tried to move away, but his body simply refused to move. 

“So…” the vampire raised an eyebrow as he gave Draco a once over. “I don’t think I caught your name?” 

Draco was busy fighting his body to answer at first, but managed after a while to spit out a: “I didn’t tell you.” 

“Yeah,” the vampire said as he drifted closer, leaving barely an inch between their chests. Draco had to bend his head slightly back to be able to see the vampire’s face peering down at him. “But now I’m asking you… What’s your name?”

“Draco.”

Damn it! He hadn’t meant to say that. Draco felt another wave of panic wash over him as he slowly but surely seemed to lose the battle of control over his body. What was going on? Greyback was dead, he were suppose to be safe!

“Drrrrraco,” the vampire rolled the name over his tongue as he brought down a hand to rest on the intersection between Draco’s shoulder and neck. 

“Can you please remove your hand?” Draco forced his mouth to form the words even as his body pressed up towards the cold hand that rested foreboding on his neck. 

“My name,” the vampire continued as if he hadn’t heard Draco’s silent plea. “Is Kóbor Sanguina. Maybe you’ve heard of my ancestor Lady Carmilla Sanguina?”

“Can’t say I have…” Draco responded as he to his own horror stepped closer to this Kóbor creep. “Please,” Draco continued close to desperate. “Can I go? I have to get back to our common room before our Head of House starts wondering where I am.”

Don’t choke up, Draco thought furiously to himself as he stared into Kóbor’s dead eyes. Honestly, he just wanted to break down and cry, but he knew that if that were to happen he was as good as done for. This Kóbor was out for him, for some reason, and he was out to kill him. Draco had no idea why? Perhaps he knew about him being the son of Lucius Malfoy? Perhaps this was another rebel gone Greyback-crazy? Perhaps… well fuck! Perhaps Draco’s invisible counter was ticking down a lot quicker than anticipated. Perhaps he was just meant to die at the hands of one creature or another.

“But you don’t seem to want to go back?” Kóbor smirked as Draco stepped even closer so that they their bodies were touching from the knees and up. “You seem…” Kóbor stroked his other hand down Draco’s cheek. “…Almost willing.”

“I’m not,” Draco insisted as his body leaned into the cold body of Kóbor. “I’m really not… Please can you let me go? My friends are expecting me back in five minutes.” 

“And…” The vampire continued as he leaned down towards Draco’s neck. “Your blood smells astonishingly good…”

“Please don’t.” Draco whispered as his heart drowned out all other sounds than the frightening ‘da-dum’ that now drummed in his ears. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me but please stop.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Kóbor replied as he dragged his nose alongside Draco’s neck, breathing in deeply. “But my Dracula, you smell delicious élet bor.”

Draco wanted to get out of here. His heart raced and he tried, he tried really hard to move his arms or legs but his limbs refused to obey him. To think that he’d felt free mere minutes ago strolling down the corridor… and now he was a prisoner in his own body. Was this confinement the work of Kóbor? Or was this something else entirely… Had this something to do with the Pull? 

“Be calm élet bor I won’t hurt you. I just have to taste you… The way your vér calls…”

“No,” Draco whispered as he tried to force his arms to push away the vampire breathing against his neck, cold huffs that made goosebumps rise over his whole body. “No no no no no no no…”

The vampire simply ignored the close to silent stream of nos pouring out from Draco’s lips – the simple word hard to whisper – as he took hold of Draco’s hair. Kóbor didn’t even need to force Draco’s head to bend as the Slytherin’s treacherous body did the motion without having to be forced. Draco wanted to scream, wanted to fight, but his limbs just allowed themselves to be manipulated, even aided the vampire in front of him in the task of devouring Draco. 

My own body is trying to kill me, Draco thought, as he couldn’t hold back the tears falling silently. I’m going to die in a few minutes, fuck, fuck, fuck…. 

“Don’t,” Draco whispered with the last of his strength just as sharp knives tore themselves into Draco’s neck. The pain was beyond anything he’d felt before. 

It burned… BURNED. 

The itch hadn’t even started again since his last meet up with Harry, ten, twenty, minutes ago, so the sensation didn’t bring any sense of relief. It wasn’t like when Harry drank, silent and painless, but rather as if Kóbor took a bite out of Draco’s neck with every swallow. If Draco had had any control over his body he would have screamed, clawed and fought the vampire to escape the horrible stabbing sensation, but all his body did was to bend his neck even further to the right to allow the vampire to bite deeper. 

Draco wished in desperation, as Kóbor drank away his life, that he’d been able to end his life at peace with himself. There was so many things he’d promised himself to do before the Pull forced him to die or become a vampire; write a letter to his parents, thank Pansy and Blaise, thank Lupin, tell Granger senior sorry, say good bye to Dana, have one final talk with Potter… and… and so much, much more. 

Draco’s vision started to blur and the dark corridor turned darker as Draco’s body collapsed into Kóbor’s arms. The vampire seemed to think nothing of it as he kept a strong hold of Draco so that he was able to keep drinking, keep killing him. 

“No,” the, now briskly dying, Slytherin whispered in a last try to what? Make Kóbor feel remorse that he was draining a student… Putting the whole MCE rebellion at risk? Harry really knew how to pick them, Draco thought as his trembling lips formed themselves into a weak smile. 

Harry… Harry Potter…

Who knew that someone so utterly captivating would be the end of him? Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad way to go after all…? 

Suddenly, Draco’s eyes felt heavy… his whole body felt heavy… And also sleepy. The pain from the feasting felt numb and honestly, it didn’t really hurt all that much anymore. Is this it? Draco thought silently as he started drifting off. 

I guess… this is it…?

*

As waking up from death goes, Draco was pretty sure it shouldn’t bee like this. Because after dying, shouldn’t you be delighted to find yourself alive again? It really shouldn’t make you want to go back to being dead… Right? 

But the gurgling sound mixed with pained whimpers did make him want to close his eyes again and fall back into the dark world called unconsciousness – which was likely more what had happened than him dying – but he couldn’t ignored the soul piercing sounds emerging from right of him. 

His whole body hurt and his neck… Merlin, his neck hurt! He felt like a half eaten chocolate frog that still was under the pretence of being alive. Shit, would his neck simply snap in two if he attempted to move?

“Harry, mate. You have to stop it. Harry?!”

Draco recognised the voice. But… He just couldn’t really place it.

“It wasn’t his fault, you know that! Look I get it, I really do, but Malfoy’s dead! This doesn’t solve anything! You and I both knew about the risk with not turning him…” 

“Ron… Shut the fuck up.”

That was Lupin right? Draco would recognise the voice he’d spent countless hours listening to anywhere. “Lupin…” He whispered so, so quietly. It was almost more of an exhale than an actual whisper, but it didn’t matter, Draco couldn’t really think of anyone he would love to see more right now than Lupin and he wanted to just… see Lupin, talk to him. 

“Harry,” Lupin spoke again. His usually calm voice strained with something close to panic. “Harry, you have to snap out of it. Draco wouldn’t want this.”

The disturbing sound of whines and something being torn from its sockets seized almost immediately after Lupin’s words. Draco felt his body relax slightly as his neck continued to pulse in the cool night air. 

“What do you know?” Was that Harry’s voice? It didn’t sound like the vampire’s voice… It sounded rather like something from a Dementor’s nightmare, a twisted thing that promised eternal torture. Draco felt like throwing up, he honest to Merlin felt like throwing up to the mere sound of the voice that was sure to make dead quiver in their graves. As it was, it made him want to crawl away, far, far, away. But his body wouldn’t let him, not that it refused him – like it had with Kóbor – but rather because of the heavy feeling of almost being drained. He was weak… frightfully so. 

“Harry, you’ve never been like this. Not since-”

Lupin interrupted himself as a cold wind swept over them all in the empty corridor. 

“Harry,” Lupin sounded calm. Draco didn’t know how the werewolf did it, he himself would surely have fainted or fled if he was facing a Potter this… unstable. It was almost as if it was a whole different entity before them. Not a bearer of peace and equality but rather someone who just wanted to watch the world burn. “You have to stop. This is not what you stand for. You have responsibilities…”

“I don’t think I care anymore.” 

Draco tried to whisper Harry’s name, but his lips just managed to form the shape of the words. Whatever was happening wasn’t good, Harry was… Harry was losing it; Draco understood that much despite his head hurting, eyes being closed and his neck burning. Harry was going batshit crazy overlord on all of them. 

“Harry,” Lupin sounded desperate.

“Mate, Harry, think carefully,” that was the Ron fellow speaking, or rather pleading with the vampire. 

“Harry…” Draco managed to push forth in a breath that hurt to his very core. 

The room went dead silent. 

“Oh thank Merlin, he’s alive,” Ron whispered.

Suddenly there was cold hands cradling his face and yeah, Harry was looming over his collapsed body whispering words so fast and furiously that Draco didn’t catch half of them. 

“Sorry… I fucked up… Please… Thank Merlin… Love…. Sorry” 

Draco just forced his eyes to open properly and stared up into the face of Harry Potter. The vampire looked broken down. His eyes were big and glanced over, almost like he fought tears, his face was still beautiful, but there was red dots – blood? – disturbing the smooth expanse of bronze coloured skin. Draco wanted to reach out and smooth away the panic but he could barely open his eyes, less move an arm. 

“Hurts,” he managed to mumble as he felt tears slide down his face of pure exhaustion. 

“Nem,” Lupin declared as he appeared behind Harry, he looming over Draco as well. The Slytherin couldn’t help but send him a crooked smile even though his voice refused to cooperate. Lupin gave Draco a pained look, even though he returned the smile. “Harry get Nem, you’re the fastest.”

Harry just shook his head. “I’m not leaving him.”

“Harry,” Lupin insisted and bent down to hover beside Harry, staring into Draco’s eyes as he stared back, tired and hurting. “We’ll look after him, nothing will happen. But you have to hurry.”

Harry looked pained and a little bit crazy as his gaze snapped up to meet Lupin’s and then back to Draco again. “But,” he whispered as his fingers stroke over Draco’s cheekbone. 

“Harry, come on, we got to hurry before it’s too late.”

The vampire gave Draco another longing look before turning to Lupin with a nod. “Fine,” he answered before leaning down towards Draco again.

“Draco,” he whispered with a shaking voice – yeah actually shaking. “I’ll be back with Nem as fast as possible. You’re going to be okay, okay? I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry…”

“Harry,” Lupin’s voice was insistent.

“Yeah…” The vampire took another breath as his forest green eyes meet Draco’s silvery ones. “Please I just…” He cut himself short with a shaky inhale. “Can I kiss you? I just have to… I know there’s no reason why you would want me to… Merlin, I’ve got no right to kiss you…”

Draco didn’t know what was going on. If this was his hazy mind creating illusions or why Harry was suddenly breaking down in front of him as someone not almighty, as someone mortal that was drowning in desperation and fear. Draco didn’t think he could deny Harry anything right now… not when he looked to be on the brink of a mental collapse. 

“I just can’t anymore Draco…” Harry whispered as he hovered closer, his hands still grasping Draco’s cheeks carefully. “Please, I promise never to let anything happen to you again… Please.”

Draco didn’t think he had enough breath to say anything about allowing Harry to kiss him. So he mustered up the last of his strength (which wasn’t a lot) to do a silly kissy motion with his mouth. If the notion of Lupin almost laughing in surprise was anything to go by Draco looked as ridiculous as he felt, not that he cared much about how he looked since he in all likelihood was covered in blood.

Harry on the other hand didn’t laugh at him or even smile. He just looked at him with gratitude before pressing his lips to Draco’s in a soft motion. A small whimper escaped the Slytherin as cool lips pressed against his own in a chaste and careful caress. For the first time in weeks Draco felt calm and that despite bleeding out on the floor. 

The moment was over sooner than Draco liked and Harry gave him one last long stare. “Thank you,” the vampire whispered with emotion colouring the simple words. 

“Now go,” Lupin insisted and just like that, Harry was gone. 

The man named Ron came into view, staring down at him with cautious eyes. He had flaming red hair and was tall, taller than Draco, perhaps same height as Harry- Ehm Potter… Or was he Harry? Draco didn’t have the mind capacity to broad or overthink at the moment so he settled with Harry. 

“Hey Draco, you’re doing great,” Lupin said as he’d clasped one of Draco’s hands in his own. “Nem will be here any minute, you’ll just have to hold on a little bit longer.”

“Yeah,” Ron said as he stared down at Draco and his lifeless body with a paling face. “You’ll be up and running in no time. Bouncing like… something that bounce.”

If Draco hadn’t been so out of it, he would have scowled at Ron’s phrasing and lack of soothing-skills. Lupin had the skillset as well as Harry, but this Ron fellow… He sure as hell didn’t have it. 

Lupin seemed to have come to the same conclusion as he turned from Draco. “Ron,” he said with urgency colouring his words. “Check on Kóbor will you?”

“Yeah,” Ron responded as his gaze drifted away to the right of Draco. “Don’t know if there’s much to check on.”

“Ron… Check on him.”

Ron disappeared from Draco’s field vision and the blonde tried to shake off the nausea he’d felt at the mention of Kóbor’s name. The vampire who’d gladly tried to kill him with no regards for neither the MCE nor Draco’s life. What had happened to him? He had a sneaking suspicion that Harry had happened, but honestly, he didn’t know what that meant… not really. 

“Right now he’s not dead permanently at least,” Ron’s voice drifted over after a few heartbeats. “He’s… He’s… Not really looking too good to be honest. Remus… I don’t think I can do this.”

“Ron, this is important.”

“I know, he’s just... Oh fucking hell.”

Ron appeared into view once more, his face seemingly green as he breathed heavily through his mouth. “Merlin, I’m going to throw up.”

Draco felt a bit curious as well as scared to how Kóbor “looked” right now. He was still alive-ish? Right? But then Draco felt another wave of blackness wash over him. He might be loosing conscious a bit again, because his vision was blurry and his head spun and yeah, his neck still hurt. 

“How’s Kóbor’s arm?” Lupin asked as Draco felt himself drift off. 

“Completely ripped off.”

And that was the last thing Draco heard before he once again was pulled under by a persistant heaviness, not even Lupin’s hand holding onto his was enough to anchor him in the wake world…

He was just so, so tired…

*

His eyes flickered. White. Private Hospital Wing. Potter hovering above him. The distant sound of “Draco?” Then black again. 

*

Next time he woke was due to a horrible nightmare of gleaming fangs in the darkness. This time his eyes flickered towards his wrist that pulsed with a burning rhythm. Harry was by his side, carefully feeding but looking up towards Draco with green eyes. The vampire let go of his hand in favour of calling out a weak “Draco?” just as the blonde once again was pulled under by heaviness. 

*

Third time he woke, Draco was alone. He was properly awake now, no more flickering in and out of consciousness. 

The hospital wing he rested in was once again the private one where he’d rested after the Pull almost doing him in that first time. Where he and Harry had… no, better not think about it… 

His mind was a haze of happenings tripping over one another. Draco was unsure if they were all real or if his mind had made up half of them, it all just felt very confusing. Lupin had been there and some redhead named Ron and… Harry. Of-fucking-course Harry had been there, dotted in blood and beautiful and unattainable and… Draco did a pause in his mind rambling. Harry had been close to crying. Harry had kissed him. Right? RIGHT? 

Draco jerked as he heard the door to the hospital open. He turned his head – carful – and yes, there he was. Harry. 

The dark entity was dressed in trousers and a muggle t-shirt, the oddly informal attributes making him appear almost soft. He had his hands full of… was that food? Yeah wizard food and lots of snacks. That was… slightly odd. 

Harry went further into the room without looking up from the food he carefully balanced in his arms, stepping forth with such grace that he seemed to be floating. The dark entity neared the bed without making much of any sound and Draco couldn’t help but shift slightly to get a better look. 

The hospital bed let out a quiet squeak and before Draco knew it Harry’s head had snapped up. His green eyes locked with Draco’s and without further ado was the food Harry had been balancing dropped down on the floor, forgotten. 

“Draco,” the vampire breathed, suddenly standing right beside the him. 

“Eh, yeah,” Draco answered dumbly, confused about close to everything. 

“Thank Merlin you’re awake,” Harry said as his eyes roamed over Draco’s features. “We didn’t know when you would wake up, if you would…” The words were left hanging in the air. “I’m just glad you are.” Harry finished after the heartbeat of silence. 

Draco just stared at Harry- Potter. He just stared at Potter. What was happening? Potter wasn’t putting up the usual distance between them; actually, he seemed to want nothing more than engulf Draco in a tight embrace but seemed to hold himself back. Draco was suddenly scared. This was confusing, this was unpredictable. What was Harry doing? POTTER! What was Potter doing?!

“Potter,” Draco started and watched as the entity before him suddenly seemed to shine a little less. 

“Yeah… Malfoy,” Potter seemed to force himself to say Draco’s last name and suddenly the snake understood why the vampire’s smile had dropped.

“Fuck whatever, Harry,” Draco said, tired of the hurt puppy look Potter wore. “I just…” He took a deep breath. “What’s going on? I don’t… I don’t remember? Or I think I don’t…?” 

“No, sorry,” Harry said as he gently sat down on the bed beside Draco, watching the blonde with careful eyes. “It... You…” He took a deep breath. “You were attacked.” He finished tight-lipped. 

“Okay…” Draco said and suddenly he remembered. Kóbor. Merlin his neck! 

Instinctively Draco’s hand snapped up towards his neck and he hissed as his fingers met the bandage covering the sore area. His breath turned laboured as a stream of memories washed over him: fangs, his body disobeying, the burn, the stab, the pain but foremost the fear. 

“I don’t think you should touch it,” Harry said as his fingers closed around Draco’s wrist. His hand felt cool as it slowly tugged Draco’s fingers away from his bandaged neck, almost as if he didn’t trust the Slytherin not to suddenly start tearing. Which was ridiculous since right now, the itch was like a small buzz underneath all this… ache, nowhere near the surface of desperation. 

Draco’s eyes narrowed as he stared at where Harry’s fingers gripped his arm. “I don’t think I want you to touch me,” Draco said and Potter’s hand was off Draco’s the second the words left his mouth.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled as he took a step away from Draco. The blonde didn’t know if the pain in his chest was supposed to be there, but it was. “Sorry,” Harry repeated again. “I just… I can go… Do you want anything? Food? Remus? I could get Remus for you…”

Draco felt way to exhausted to deal with this right now. He had just woken up from another near death experience and here Potter was, behaving like a kicked puppy for some godforsaken reason. Had he accidently woken up in an alternative reality as well? 

“No,” Draco said because no. This had to stop now. He’d already promised himself to let go of Potter but that wouldn’t work if Potter- Harry didn’t stop behaving like this. Behaving like he suddenly longed for Draco’s approval, longed to touch him but still kept away muttering words like “I have no right” and other messed-up phrases. 

“I…” Draco continued. “…Or rather ‘we’, need to talk. And I mean really talk. And you’re going to sit there in front of me, and you’re going to listen and answer my questions. You think you can do that?” Draco tried to shuffle up in the bed to sit more properly. Potter watched him as Draco struggled, clearly wanting to help the blonde in the task but in the end keeping still. Draco breathed heavily after he’d arranged himself in a more preferable position and his neck had started throbbing in an unpleasant manner. But that wasn’t really important right now…

“Right,” Draco said as he looked at Potter, cursing himself for wanting to allow Potter to sooth him, to allow the entity to break him again. Perhaps it was the Pull that brought forth this longing to make sure Potter was happy, but then again… perhaps it was not. “First question. What happened in the dungeon… when was it? Yesterday?”

“Eleven days ago,” Potter answered, his gaze never leaving Draco’s face. Draco felt… A bit empty. He’d been asleep for almost two weeks? Half a month of his three-month long life? Now he had, Draco did a fast calculation in his head, one more month before doomsday, if the curse decided to take exactly three months that was… 

God, Merlin and all holy.

“Draco,” that was Potter’s voice, small and worried. He looked at him as if he wanted nothing more than take the blonde in his arms and run away. Draco didn’t know what to feel; just that eleven fucking days was too much, too soon. 

“Fuck,” he whispered as his breath grew erratic. “No, no, no,” he continued as his eyes flickered across the room, down his body – Christ, he was thinner than ever – down to his wrists, littered with so many scars. “I don’t…” Draco had felt confident a minute ago, calm even, and very much in control of everything, “Eleven days,” now he didn’t. 

“It’s okay,” Harry said and leaned closer to him without touching. “Everyone have kept working on a cure, they might even have something soon-”

“Eleven-fucking-days,” Draco ignored Potter’s reassuring lies. Because that was what you did when someone started to panic right? You lied to them, just to get them to calm down.

“Draco,” Harry sounded pained as suddenly one cool finger stroked over one of Draco’s clenched hands – wow, when had his hand formed themselves into shaking fists? – making tiny sparks ignite all over the blonde as well as momentarily distract Draco from the tide wave of panic threatening to drown him. 

Unfortunately the only thought left to inhabit Draco’s mind when the panic had subsided was ‘I think I like Harry too much’. Because the mere touch of the vampire’s one finger, just ONE finger, made Draco forget about how he had one more month – maybe – to live, how he’d eleven days ago had been attacked and almost killed, mere days before that almost offed himself and before that been close to maimed by Fenrir. It made Draco stop regretting ever laying eyes on Potter and instead made something inside of him yearn for more of that cool skin. 

“Harry,” Draco said warningly. Harry removed his finger quickly and Draco took another deep breath, panic kept at bay. “Okay,” he said as he forced his head out from the gutter where it seemed to have taken a permanent residence. This was neither the time nor the place to be overwhelmed. Because Potter- Harry, was looking at him with oddly vulnerable eyes, making the entity that always seemed bigger than life, appear oddly small. 

“Okay,” Draco repeated to himself, his voice rough as he considered his next question. “Eleven day’s ago, let’s just move past that for now.” 

Harry nodded slowly in agreement.

“Eleven day’s ago I was attacked by… Kóbor?”

Harry flashed his fangs at the mention of the name, but seemed to catch himself as his gaze flickered down, avoiding Draco’s. “It’s not really his fault,” the vampire confessed. “I knew this could happen… I just didn’t think it would. Because…” he tangled a hand into his soft hair, a gesture due to agitation no doubt. “…The Pull seems to work different on you, and I don’t know why. Some things are the same, like the itching and the need to tear. But other than that…” Harry drifted off. 

Draco gave the mulling vampire a moment to gather his thoughts. The sunbeams that flowed into the room, bouncing on Harry’s bronze coloured skin and making the vampire seem close to glowing. It was strange that something so unearthly was behaving so broken and regretful as Harry did. The square jaw and sharp cheekbones that was all part of Harry should without doubt be able to make worlds bow in adoration at his feet – not mentioning the otherworldly powers he possessed – but in this moment he seemed just as lost as anyone. 

“Was that why Kóbor attacked,” Draco said before the silence could linger too long. “Because of the Pull?”

Harry nodded sharply as his hand pulled at his hair again. 

Draco stared at Harry as he felt a feeling of foreboding explode in his chest. Harry had a notorious streak of never telling Draco anything of importance until it was too late. Somehow this seemed to fall into that category as well. 

“Harry,” Draco said as he tried to catch the vampire’s gaze. “What haven’t you told me?”

“I didn’t think it would happen Draco,” Harry said as his green (oh so green) eyes stared at anything but Draco. “It should have happened earlier… It usually happens earlier.”

“And still you didn’t tell me ‘earlier’ about this risk of having my fucking throat torn out?” Draco felt bile rise in the back of his mouth. Who was Harry to deem what was necessary for Draco to know concerning his life? Harry just kept his gaze averted at the accusing note in Draco’s voice. “You can’t be serious.”

“I know I fucked up. I should have told you- I- I should have noticed.”

“Noticed what?” Draco inquired harshly. His stomach felt sick but this might be the only time he would get any answers out of Harry. He didn’t even fear the answers anymore; he just wanted to know the truth, even though he might not like it.

“Your blood,” Harry whispered as his hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair twitched slightly. “It has started to call.”

“Call?” Draco didn’t like where this was going.

“That happens when you’re affected by the Pull,” Harry whispered, still not meeting Draco’s eyes. “Other vampire’s feel it and it’s hard to resist. It’s your body which desperately tries to turn, by any means possible.”

Draco allowed the tense silence to linger for a heartbeat as he gathered his thoughts. “Do you mean…” he begun hesitantly. “That the curse tries to get me turned to a vampire by making my blood smell good?”

Harry nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, since I’ve continued to drink from you without turning you, perhaps this stage was delayed… Usually it happens earlier, just a week or so into the curse. But… then again…” Harry took a deep breath. Draco fleetingly wondered if air even was a necessity for the Elder Vampire. “…I’ve never aided someone in overcoming the Pull.”

Draco felt a bit pissed about the whole ordeal, and that was putting it lightly. Thanks to Harry’s choice he’d nearly died (again) and instead of relying information of what being under the Pull was, Harry had withheld the information because of what?

“Why?” Draco asked with a quiet voice in the empty hospital. Not even the beams of the sun could warm him when everything just felt so cold.

“Because…” Harry looked into Draco’s eyes, and yes, it was remorse in the vampire’s eyes. At least he cares, Draco thought solemnly. “… You’ve been through so much, too much, already. I didn’t want to make you worry.”

Draco couldn’t help a cold chuckle escape at the pathetic attempt of an apology. “Please Potter,” he said, ignoring how Harry flinched at the parody of joy. “Since when have you cared about my sensibilities?”

“I do, always have.” Harry sounded firm and maybe a bit scared as he proclaimed his stance. 

“You haven’t,” Draco deadpanned, this time without the biting sting of dark humour. 

“Always,” Harry said again. As if he had any fucking right to say that. As if he hadn’t spent the last weeks confusing Draco with how much, oh wait, how little, he cared. As if simply by saying I care somehow was equivalent with the sensation. 

“Can you drop this pathetic act of honesty?” Draco said as he brought a shaking hand to his forehead. The pulsing pain behind his temple had started to make itself noticeable. “What have really been going on is that I was – am – a pastime. A good looking pastime sure …” Harry seemed like he wanted to object, but Draco shot him a glare and the vampire promptly stayed silent. “… But none the less just another project who just happened to have the last name Malfoy. And your preaching worked didn’t it? You managed to convince me that creature weren’t all-bad and at the same time you gained my loyalty.”

“That wasn’t-” Harry begun, but Draco interrupted because right now he was speaking. 

“No,” he gave the dark-haired entity a glare. “You listen for once, okay?” 

Harry looked reluctant to agree, but nodded none the less. 

“Right, I’m not saying this was part of a well executed plan. Because from what I’ve seen of you so far I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have the brains to stick to it, unless you had help. So I’ll give you that.”

Harry didn’t exactly seem please about Draco’s conclusion but he kept quiet. Just staring at Draco in the afternoon glow. 

“But I’m probably not wrong with that you weren’t planning to start anything lasting with me right?”

Harry looked scared as he opened his mouth slowly, licking his lips nervously. “No you’re right,” he said. And Draco wasn’t sure if the pain in his chest was suppose to be there, not after how many times he’d already told himself that Harry wasn’t in love or even interested. Still, it hurt to hear it from the vampire himself. 

“Right,” Draco said, trying to ignore the thickness in his own voice.

“Wait, let me explain?” Harry looked worried. Like he expected Draco to say ‘fuck you, we’re done! Now get the fuck out of my life’. Draco might actually have been tempted to do just so. But since he already was pretty convinced he was going to say those exact words after this conversation, he just nodded in the universal sign of ‘get on with it’.

Harry took another deep breath. “I’m a leader for a rebellion. I can’t be committed to anyone when I’m already committed to this. In the beginning it was just because I wanted something normal. Something that wasn’t negotiations, strategy meetings or planning fucking battles.”

“A pastime,” Draco said as he tried to ignore the way Harry fucking trembled in front of him. 

“A way to cope,” Harry shot back. “It was never going to be more than a few meetings, a few kisses. But then things just went south. I- I-” Harry tore his eyes away from Draco’s to stare down at his lap. “I didn’t want to stop seeing you,” he whispered. Like he’d just given Draco the spell to end him, like it meant anything at all in the grand scheme. It shouldn’t, but somehow it did. Draco’s heart fluttered briefly. 

“But you knew about the Pull, the possibility-”

“Yeah, but I made sure we never spent too long in each others company, it should have been impossible for the Pull to affect you.”

“‘Should have’,” Speaking of shoulds, Draco should sound angry. Instead he sounded a bit sad, maybe a bit hurt, but not anything remotely close to what he should be feeling. Where was the rage that had been growing within him moments ago?

“Yeah,” the way Harry’s voice shook, the way he sounded so fucking miserable shouldn’t make Draco want to sooth him, yet it did. “I guess I screwed up bad on that one. I just thought it was perfect you know… I didn’t want to stop seeing you, and if you turned into a vampire I wouldn’t have to. I guess it had never crossed my mind that you wouldn’t want to be turned.”

“My name is Draco Malfoy,” Draco informed Harry with acid lancing his voice. Acid that really was only for show because on the inside he felt nothing but empty. 

“Yeah,” Harry sounded sad. “It is hard to remember sometimes.” 

Those few words really shouldn’t make Draco’s insides warm up just as Harry being all broken up really shouldn’t make Draco want to comfort him. But goddamn it it did.

“And then everything became messed up. I should have talked to you earlier but…” Harry’s eyes darted up to gaze into Draco’s eyes once again before looking away. “… Nothing had turned out as I’d predicted. Suddenly you’re dying and it’s my fault and how am I supposed to save all the creatures of the world if I can’t even save you? How am I supposed to protect werewolves and vampires when I can’t even protect you? I’ve started to fucking doubt this rebellion… maybe it wasn’t such a great idea? Maybe becoming Elder Vampire was the worst idea I’d ever fucking had-”

Harry broke off in the middle of a sentence and there was a dry-heave following the desperate words. Like just talking about it made Harry sick.

In short… Harry sounded broken. Suddenly Draco felt selfish. He shouldn’t feel anything else but joy at watching Harry suffer (supposedly) but all he felt was sick. How had he missed this? He’d figured that Harry must have things to do, people to meet, but the vampire had always seemed to be in control. He’d seemed like the thousands of lives depending on him as a single entity weren’t a big deal. Like becoming the Elder Vampire gave him the power to lead a rebellion without breaking a sweat. Thoughts like that were foolish, and still… Draco had been convinced they were true. 

“Harry,” Draco said with a surprisingly (or perhaps not so surprisingly) soft voice. Harry’s body stiffened. “Hey, Harry,” Draco tried again, stretching a trembling hand towards Harry while letting out a small sigh of pain. Merlin, his neck felt ready to freaking snap if he weren’t careful. 

Harry seemed to have heard the small sigh because he immediately moved closer to stop Draco from stretching too far. Suddenly Draco’s hand was cupping a square jaw and cool skin and why did it feel like coming home? 

“Harry,” Draco said again as he traced an unsteady finger over the vampire’s smooth skin. “Are you okay?”

The vampire emitted a sound that resembled a laugh without joy or ease. “Draco,” Harry said as he closed his eyes, leaning into the trembling hand cupping his jaw. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

Draco only shook his head, knowing that Harry couldn’t se him. How could the world’s most powerful creature appear so fragile? “No Harry, you shouldn’t.”

It was almost like watching the inevitable happen as Harry curled his whole body onto the bedding, pressing close to Draco like he was the last lifeline. “I’m not okay.” Harry confessed as he pressed his face into Draco’s shoulder with trembling breaths dancing out of his mouth. Draco could do nothing more than engulf the vampire in a tight embrace, his arms shaking and weak, but at least his heartbeats were steady. Draco held Harry as the vampire just breathed against him. 

It never occurred to Draco to feel anything but protecting of Harry as he mumbled nonsense into the dark hair while afternoon turned to night. It also never occurred to him to guard his heart as he allowed his fingers to tangle in said hair and his body to grow used to the cool weight pressed against him. For once in a long while Draco didn’t think about a clock ticking down or Harry not caring. For once in a long time life felt almost good again.

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ What time is it? Summer time! 
> 
> Finally I do have the time to write regularly and I will try to upload a chapter every second week:)
> 
> I’m so grateful for everyone who’ve kept with this fic throughout the year and all you new folks who’ve joined later on :D Let’s try to finish this tale before school starts once more!
> 
> This chapter has not been looked over by its beta yet, so I’ll reupload in a week (probably) with a corrected version:) that said you’re naturally welcome to point out errors be them story-wise or grammatically. You’re also welcome to tell me your opinion (how else will I evolve to a better author?).
> 
> Have a continuing great Day/Night!


	12. Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ This chapter have not been beta’d!

There was nothing but darkness as Draco opened his eyes, darkness interrupted only by the faint glow of a moon crescent. There was also a familiar itch underneath Draco’s skin, vibrating like a bad reminder of pain and despair. 

But even though Draco felt his very soul shiver in agony at the familiar sensation and all it brought with it, he didn’t feel particular unhappy. Because as waking up goes, doing it in cool arms holding tight, wasn’t the worst way to awake. Actually it might have been one of the best. 

For a moment he allowed himself to simply breath in the silence of the night. To find comfort in the arms of Harry. Life was a right mess, especially now, but Draco had found his peace as he followed the close to invisible beams of silver disrupting the black space around them. He imagined his chances of surviving being the silvery light of an almost gone moon. The darkness surrounding him, almost suffocating in its massiveness, but the silver still persisting… his life still persisting. Perhaps everything would work out? Perhaps not, but if he couldn’t hold on to hope, what else was there?

No matter how peaceful the moment seemed, the itch only increased and soon Draco realised he would have to wake Harry. 

He turned around to watch the sleeping entity beside him. Right now Harry looked surprisingly young, same age as him if not even younger. His hair was spilling over the white pillow of the hospital bed, almost like a shadow at rest. Harry’s face, usually guarded and hard was relaxed and the slightly opened mouth showed off a glint of deadly fangs. Despite the evidence of dark creature, Draco just wanted to press a small kiss in the corner of that perfect mouth. It seemed strange that he’d ever been afraid of Harry, someone who slept with an open mouth.

For the first time, Draco wondered why Harry had chosen to become the Elder Vampire. Had it been because of idealistic reasons? Had it happened by chance? Well… You didn’t really kill an Elder Vampire by chance, doing that was close to impossible, really, nothing you did with a mispronunciation of a spell. 

“Harry,” Draco breathed as he remembered broken sobs and pleading eyes. How Harry had been so far from okay that it had been laughable. How he had managed to lead the rebellion thus far was a wonder. Had he always been on the brink of breaking down or was that something that had happened recently?

“Mhm,” the answer came as Harry tightened his grip on Draco. His hand squeezing tighter around Draco’s waist and his nose pressing closer to Draco’s neck. His wriggling was actually a bit distracting. 

“Harry,” Draco whispered again, amused despite himself as the vampire grunted undignified. Never having to sleep was apparently not one of the legendary Elder Vampire abilities. 

Draco was just about to start doing something stupid, like poke Harry in the face or maybe kiss him as the door to the hospital area flew open with a BANG.

Cold arms, immediately surrounded Draco holding him in a protecting circle, as his cheek was pressed against a cool chest. He groaned at the sudden onslaught of pain from his neck.

“Harry,” the voice sounded upset. 

Draco forced his head to turn – frikkin ouch! – in the direction of the intruder despite his all but favourably position, what with him being pressed chest to… stomach (?) with Harry. It was the red-haired boy, Ron, who’d been beside Lupin during his latest attack. Only this time the boy didn’t look pale and on the verge of vomiting. This time he looked ready to strangle something. And if his line of walk were any indication, the victim would be either him or Harry. 

“Ron,” Harry’s voice sounded hard, guarded and also a bit remorseful. 

As Ron made his way over to their bed, Lupin snuck in through the door with wide eyes and stressed lines etched in his forehead. “I’m sorry,” the werewolf said as he closed the wide open doors behind him. “I tried to stop him…”

“It’s all right,” Harry said as he almost dragged Draco behind him, shielding him with his own body. 

Ron didn’t seem to like that… not one bit. “For fuck sake Harry!” he screamed as he stopped some inches from the bed, his fist clenched and trembling. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Ron,” Harry sounded levelled and almost a bit pissed off, but Ron just gave him a death-glare. No survival instincts there. 

“You missed it, Harry. You missed the cabinet meeting. You missed the negotiations, again. You missed so many evening strategy get-togethers that I’m not even going to keep count.” Ron actually looked ready to cry, his anger transforming to misery in a heartbeat. 

“Draco-” Harry began his voice careful but steady. The mere mention of his name seemed to whip Ron back into rage mode and the red-haired man had to take a shaking breath to restrain himself. From doing what, Draco could only imagine. 

“Yeah, glorious Draco fucking Malfoy. I get you want to take responsibility, Harry, I fucking get it.” If looks could kill, Draco would surely been loosing his ninth life about now. “But what about the rest of us?” Ron’s eyes filled with something gleaming, like he was on the verge of breaking down. “What about my brother.”

“Bill’s fine,” Harry said but his voice trembled slightly, like he wasn’t sure. 

“Bill’s not fine,” Ron shouted. “Lupin’s not fine! Nobody’s fucking fine who isn’t a wizard with the ‘right’ opinions! You know that Harry, you fucking know that!” Ron wiped a hand over his eyes because sometime during his rant Ron had started to cry and his voice had started to crack.

“Ron, I’m not drifting,” Harry said with a careful voice, almost as if not to spook the red-haired mess before him. 

“But you are,” Ron said after a heartbeat of silence. Lupin had approached their bed slowly as his eyes kept shifting between Harry and Ron, his scrappy figure almost vanishing in the dark room. “You’re with him instead of with us.”

“I have to, the Pull-”

“That’s no excuse,” Ron sounded firm, hard. Draco felt his heartbeat drum in his ear as he remembered Harry talking about commitment and reasons why ‘they’ wouldn’t work. He also thought about the itch growing harder to ignore underneath his skin, the pain searing through him, the thousands of moments of rejections and the hours he’d spent trying to mend his crumbling feelings. 

Draco wouldn’t say he understood Harry’s reasoning to a hundred percent but maybe he could fathom a bit of what Harry was facing in the form of a broken red-head. 

“Have someone else take him, you don’t have to do the feedings.”

Draco’s eyes snapped to Harry at that tiny, itsy bit of information. Any vampire could do? Not just Harry? No that couldn’t be right, right? Harry must have said somewhere along that it was him specifically who had to do the blood drinking, or…? Draco tried to remember the morning of the big reveal but couldn’t seem to recall that specific detail being mentioned. He’d just presumed that Harry would have had to be the vampire drinking from him; after all, it was Harry whom had inflicted the Pull onto him.

So why had Harry wasted his obviously precious time playing nurse for the son to one of his enemies? A son that despite being stupidly in love with him also had made sure to give him hell for the Pull. 

Well, Draco didn’t really regret that last part. He was still dying from the damn curse if the steady growing itch in his neck was anything to go by.

“Don’t call it ‘feedings’,” Harry’s voice returned Draco from his ponderings as cool hands tightened their grip over his shoulders. “I’m trying to save his life.”

“So that’s what this is?” Ron asked with a rough voice, filled with accusation and disbelief. “Saving his life?”

“Yes,” but Harry’s voice sounded uncertain. 

“Then let someone else take him!”

Harry looked torn as his body went rigid and his hands clenched and unclenched around the expanse of Draco. Draco’s heartbeat drummed with frightening intensity. He wanted to see Harry’s face, but it was hard to do when the vampire kept him pressed against his chest. The protecting gesture was not lost to Draco but right now, he wanted more than anything to see the emotions passing over the vampire’s face. Why had he been stubborn enough to keep helping Draco himself when he just as well could have ordered anyone else to do it?

“No,” Harry said with the sharp edge of something close to desperation filling his voice. “His blood have started to call, other vampires might not be able to resist stop drinking,” Harry’s voice was so uncertainly certain; it was confusing the hell out of Draco. 

“Harry,” Ron sounded choked with something resembling anger. “We’re one or two negotiations from ending this occupation, don’t let us, me, down now. Don’t let MCE down now when you’re needed the most. You’re the only reason why the Ministry even consider negotiation instead of just wiping us out.” Ron took a deep breath as he briefly moved his gaze to meet Draco’s instead of Harry’s, the quick glare speaking of something close to hatred. “We’re so close to fucking winning, so close to actually change the world for the future and your absence delays it. ‘They’ think the most dangerous creature on the planet, the only reason to why they give a fuck, have stopped caring. And you know what happens then?”

Harry might have been shaped out of marble, his cool body frozen. Lupin who hovered behind Ron looked miserably as his eyes kept shifting between the red-head and the Elder Vampire. 

“They will probably take physical action against us even before your PET project kills himself.”

“Ron,” Lupin sounded horrified. But it was still nothing to what Harry was sounding; the dark rumble shaking the room was positively horrifying. Harry’s body seemed ready to pounce to rip Ron’s throat out and then proceed to do the same to anyone else in the vicinity. 

If Lupin’s terrified expression was anything to go by Harry’s face matched his body language. 

Ron seemed to also get that he’d said too much as he slowly took a step backward, his face white and haunted. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

The shadows in the room seemed to grow more sinister. 

This simply wouldn’t do.

“Harry,” Draco said with a firm voice, his hand settling over the vampire’s arm. “Listen, Ron’s a git. But I’m not a maiden that needs a big knight in shiny armour to defend me. I’ve taken worse insults.” 

The rumble shaking the room seemed to be getting better, but just barely. 

Draco hesitated for a moment before making up his mind. There was really nothing to make up as he considered it, he’d probably weighted his options more times than he cared to count and this had always been the answer. As Blaise so eloquently said: ‘At least you’ll be able to feel regret as a vampire’.

“If we truly do not manage to find a cure in time… I’ll turn.”

The room stopped shaking and the thickening darkness seemed to dispatch, leaving once again way for the dim light of the moon to filter through. It was in a way almost like witnessing hope return. 

“Talk to Ron,” Draco found himself saying, no matter the dislike he felt for the man. “I’ll go with Lupin until you sort this out.”

Draco felt lighter than what he’d done in years as he pushed himself – oh so carefully, because ouch again – off the bed. His neck screaming and his body protesting, but the blonde simply took the onslaught of pain with clenched hands and a trembling frame. He owed it to Harry to sort this out, just as Harry obviously had thought he owed it to Draco to take responsibility for the Pull.

His legs almost folded beneath him as the rushing in his ears only increased. It seemed like one of the hardest things Draco had ever done just to take a step away from the bed towards Lupin. 

His arm was seized in a tight grip before he could do much more than begin his second – but certainly just as painful – step. 

“Draco?” Merlin, Harry sounded small and hurt. Draco slowly turned around and forced a smile to overlap his pained features. 

“Hey,” he said as big green eyes met his. “It’s okay, really.”

The vampire shook his head in denial. “It’s really not.”

“I know that it’s not,” Draco manage to huff. “But it is what it is.”

Harry’s hand lingered along his wrist, tapping the scarred skin gently. Like a reminder because yes, Draco had somehow forgotten the itch that now returned even more vicious than earlier. Draco’s hand twitched, obviously wanting to scratch but with a great deal of self-restraint the blonde forced his treacherous limbs to stay at his sides. 

Harry’s eyes flickered between the hand and Draco’s suddenly troubled expression with a knowing gaze. Ron and Lupin were blissfully silent. Probably simply marvelling that Draco had stopped the freaking Elder Vampire for defending his honour. And exactly when had Draco started to feel comfortable enough to interrupt something as ominous as Harry’s darker side from lashing out? He couldn’t pinpoint the exact time he’d stopped being petrified. Yes, he was frightened of what could and probably had done, but he wouldn’t stand by while the vampire went ballistic towards his allies. Towards Lupin, Draco’s mind thought decidedly.

“Maybe we could make that go away before your talk,” Draco suggested as he allowed his hand to relax in Harry’s hold. 

The vampire gave him a small smile and nodded. Still, Harry looked miserable as his eyes fitted over Draco’s neck before landing on his marred skin. If this had been a month ago Draco would most likely have thrown a fit over how he appeared sick and scarred. A far cry from how he’d once been, all smooth skin and pale features, back then appearing alluringly slender instead of sickly thin. But Harry just stared at him as if he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch Draco’s marred skin.

Draco was just too tired to fight it anymore. Not when he’d foolishly decided to allow himself to care once more. At least he wasn’t as naïve as he’d once been, in the beginning of their relationship so long, long ago. 

At least he knew this was more likely than not temporary. But frankly, as long as he could help Harry he would. Merlin, Blaise would probably murder him for even thinking the thought. A thought so very un-Slytherin. 

Harry brought his wrist up to his mouth and nibbled gently on the skin, not quite breaking the haggard surface. Draco couldn’t suppress a smile, why was it so much easier to yield to these emotions than fighting them? Draco allowed his hand that was not occupied by the vampire rest gently on Harry’s hair, allowing the shadowy locks to slip through his fingers as he slowly scratched the scalp. 

Harry pressed up into the petting hand, still seated on the bed while Draco was standing up. Somehow, even though Draco was the one being ‘feed’ from, the mere height difference – usually the opposite of the current – was enough to make something in Draco’s stomach uncoil. Or maybe coil? He didn’t really know what he was feeling. However it was, it was strange. 

Harry bit into his wrist with ease, still allowing his hair to be petted, played with, as he slowly swallowed away the itch in Draco’s neck. 

The silence from Lupin and Ron was loud behind Draco’s back. 

Harry looked up at him from underneath thick lashes as he carefully swallowed another mouthful. Draco looked down at him from where he was towering above and for some reason the whole ordeal felt more like a power display than an actual means to an end. For some reason Draco didn’t particular like the thought of Harry below him. He didn’t like the thought of possessing the power to command the most lethal creature on the planet. But as Harry’s green eyes looked into his grey he couldn’t deny the feeling that if he right now told Harry he wanted the world to burn, the vampire would without hesitation bring forth hell. 

The thought of Harry looking at Draco with remorse so great that he would go against his own beliefs – beliefs that had created the MCE – to simply please Draco made the blonde slightly nauseous. He tugged carefully at the black hair, making Harry instantly drop his wrist. His green eyes looked worried, like he was scared of having done something wrong. Merlin, this was unnerving. 

“Harry,” Draco spoke quietly. Harry just stared up into his face. “Look things aren’t great and whatever your intentions were, what you do from this point is – as far as I’m concerned – what counts.” 

The vampire simply stared. The disbeliefs literarily shining from his eyes. 

Draco continued to drag his fingers through the entity’s hair. “I’m pissed. Because maybe this whole ordeal could have been avoided if you’d just been honest with me from the start. But you weren’t and I have to admit that this… ‘confusion’,” Draco settled on. “That’s been between us is not solely your fault.”

The vampire seemed to cling to every word. Harry’s eyes scanning Draco’s face for what? Lies? Sincerity? 

“You’ve suffered so much because of me.” Harry said after a moment of simply staring. “Because even though I’m supposed to be the mightiest being alive I manage to muck things up…”

“Harry,” Draco said firmly, interrupting the rant that was surely to come. “It’s human to make mistakes.”

“I’m not human,” Harry choked out.

“No,” Draco admitted as he allowed his hand to drift down from petting Harry’s hair to cup his jaw. “You’re more. So much, much more.”

Draco could almost feel Harry tremble as he exhaled an uneven breath. 

“You know that,” Draco whispered quietly. Too quiet for Ron to hear unless he had supernatural hearing, but probably not low enough to evade Lupin’s werewolf ears. “Now go change the world. Make sure everyone knows, realise, how wrong it is to think something not human can’t be humane.”

Draco couldn’t say he was surprised as he was yanked down, his lips crushing onto Harry’s in a messy imperfection. Not that the vampire seemed to care, not that Draco really cared either. His head was up in the blue as he for once in his life was utterly certain he’d done the right thing. Harry was leading a rebellion; somehow, Draco had managed to forget that. Had managed to forget that someone as powerful as Harry was likely to feel doubt once in a while. The least thing he could do, if he now was going to turn if no cure was found, was to make this rebellion succeed. 

He shuddered at the realisation. Because right. This Magical Creature Equality ordeal was about to become his problem. Maybe. He still didn’t want to become a vampire, not if the choice was given to him. But the reason no longer had its roots in family or prejudice. Rather, he thrived as a wizard so why would he want to change? 

Harry withdrew from their kiss with something like reliance shining in his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered, some of the fragility disappearing from his face. 

“Talk to Ron,” Draco said with a just slightly strained smile. “I’ll go with Lupin.”

Harry nodded as he released Draco’s wrist from his hold. The lingering touch burning its mark onto his already marked skin. Draco stepped away with a small winch. Damn, his neck wouldn’t stop hurting anytime soon. 

He turned around with care, not looking at either Ron or Lupin as he felt oddly embarrassed over the emotional display he’d allowed them to see. As a slytherin, he usually kept his emotions under tight straps. Never show your weakness, his father had taught him early age. And emotions were weakness, no doubt. Especially when they bordered on lovingly. 

Lupin stepped up beside him with swift movements, falling into step beside Draco with an ease reminding him of an officer joining a commander. The tight feeling in his stomach made itself reminded once again as Draco glanced over his shoulder towards Harry. 

The vampire still watched him, his green eyes trained at his retreating back. The intensity in those eyes would probably have scared him when he’d first met Harry. When he’d shook and hyperventilated at the mere notion of fangs. The same fangs he today allowed Harry to pierce him with daily. And just as he no longer feared ‘feedings’ – when had that become the term they used, really? – he neither feared Harry’s usually violent means to do right by others. In this case, do right by him. 

***

Lupin had followed Draco out of the hospital to a small room just outside. Really, Draco thought as he’d settled on one of the comfortable sofas. Harry and Ron should have been the ones to exit the hospital; after all, he was the patient with injuries. But his dramatic exit with Lupin one step behind wouldn’t have happened, and yes maybe Draco did have a flare for the dramatics. Hence falling stupidly in love with Harry the Elder Vampire. 

Right now he regretted not asking Harry to leave. Because despite the smug feeling of being able to leave his bed a mere day or so after awakening from his eleven-fucking-days sleep, his neck wasn’t cooperating. In other words, he was fighting another wave of nauseating pain making itself known. 

Lupin had been quiet since they’d arrived. He’d sat down oppose to Draco with a bent head, his usual soft rumbling voice painfully absent. Draco had a flash of worry that Lupin blamed Harry’s recent absent on him just as Ron had. He tried to keep the feeling of panic at bay. 

The room was eerily quiet. 

Draco glanced at Lupin as he tried to surround himself with an air of nonchalance. He liked Lupin, a lot. Lupin had saved his life. He didn’t want the werewolf to despite him. But this silence was too much. 

“So,” Draco begun as he felt his throat burn slightly from producing the words. “How have you been?”

The question was bad at best but Draco simply wanted to hear Lupin answer with a sneer or a laugh, anything to give him a clue to where they stood. He wished for a laugh. 

“Draco,” Lupin answered after another heartbeat of silence, his voice neither joyous nor hateful. 

“Yeah,” Draco said because somehow Lupin had made his name sound like ‘Don’t’.

The werewolf dragged his hands through his hair, his appearance tired and stressed even if not pain filled. Draco felt a sudden wave of gratefulness over werewolf’s extraordinary healing abilities. Sure, a few new scars had appeared on the skin already carrying so many but no other damage than that. Greyback hadn’t managed to break Lupin, no matter the punches that had been hard enough to break bones. 

“I’m glad you’re not hurt,” Draco found himself saying without his minds consent. “I was worried.”

Lupin exhaled slowly as he dragged a hand through his hair, again. Only this time slightly more violent. “I’m glad as well,” Lupin said at last. “That you’re not dead, because you should be.” 

Draco held his breath. 

Lupin seemed to be struggling with something as he shifted on his seat, yanked his hair and over all appeared to be ready to crawl out of his own skin. “I don’t know how to say any of this,” Lupin confessed as his hands clenched and unclenched. “I guess that all I can do is apologise on all of ours behalf.”

“Apologise?” Draco dared ask.

“Yes,” Lupin nodded as if he tried to convince Draco that this was serious, that this apology was serious. Not that Draco would believe anything else. “Because somehow you’ve been so close to death so many times that’s it’s not even a pattern anymore. It’s like death will keep on almost happening until it does.”

“Well,” Draco ventured, because he understood Lupin’s slightly ineloquent words. “I am dying.”

Lupin’s hands stayed clenched as he took a deep breath. “Yeah,” his voice sounded small, hurt. “It’s- damn,” he pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes, as if to shut out the world. “Its shit is what it is. And everyone’s trying you know. Nem, Hermione, Pomfrey-”

“Wait,” Draco interrupted. “Pomfrey? You’ve told Pomfrey about the Pull?!”

“Of course,” Lupin said and raised an eyebrow in Draco’s direction. “She have years of knowledge and is a brilliant healer. Why wouldn’t we involve her?”

“Ehm,” Draco stumbled over the words as his head spun. “Because she will tell Dumbledore about the Pull. Because you all will be gone from this castle faster than you can say quidditch. Because if it got out that an innocent student is dying because of the Elder Vampire that isn’t exactly going to put the MCE in a good light...”

“True, very true words,” Lupin agreed as his eyes gleamed in appreciation. “Words, both Ron and others have tried to get Harry to listen to. Not that he did.”

“Why isn’t Dumbledore interfering?” Draco said as he felt something cold wash over his inner. What could possible keep the headmaster from not attacking Harry himself if he knew the vampire was the reason one of Hogwarts student soon would die? Dumbledore was many things: compassionate, protective, devoted, idealistic, slightly crazy but foremost a man of action. Dumbledore wouldn’t stand inactive if the truce had been broken. 

Lupin interrupted Draco’s swirling thoughts with his next words, “Because of you.”

The blonde blinked slowly. “Me?”

Lupin nodded. “The first time, after Greyback had attacked you, you still told him to allow us to stay. Dumbledore is still heeding those words.” 

“What,” Draco’s eyes were probably comically large at this point, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. “You mean that I’m the reason why you haven’t been kicked out?”

“Yes,” Lupin said as a small smile flashed over his lips. “I thought you knew?”

“No.” A familiar bitter feeling made its way into Draco’s heart. “I’m not told a whole lot these days.”

Lupin gave Draco a long stare, his expression carefully balanced between blank and sympathetic. “He only does that to protect you,” the werewolf offered with a quiet voice. “Harry’s not…” Lupin hesitated. “Harry’s life is complicated.”

“I know,” Draco assured with a forced smile. “I know it is.”

“No,” Lupin said after a moment of silence. “I don’t think you do.”

Draco gave Lupin a tired laugh despite his sour throat. “Probably not,” he allowed. “But it’s not like anyone bothers to tell me what’s going on… or did bother to tell me.” He raised his gaze to stare into Lupin’s amber eyes. “New deal is that I’m not kept out of the loop. Harry agreed.”

“Yes, he would,” Lupin sighed. 

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Draco didn’t like the heavy exhale that had left Lupin’s lips nor did he like what the words insinuated. Especially not after the strange feeding just minutes ago. 

“It means,” Lupin sounded tired. “Harry would do anything for you.”

Draco merely swallowed because he knew that. Had known that the moment Harry had pressed up into his hand while gently – oh so gently – swallowing a mouthful of his blood like it was a blessing Draco had granted him. Maybe he somehow had known that even before then? He was still struggling to accept the strange feeling the knowledge brought him.

“And that’s what we need to talk about,” Lupin continued as his voice drifted off. Clearly Lupin dreaded this conversation just as much as Draco had started to dread it. He couldn’t help but imagine words like “stay away”, “risking this rebellion” or “liability” make its way out of Lupin’s mouth. Lupin, who actually mattered. Lupin who might look poor and ragged but had a heart of gold underneath it all. Draco thought it hard to find a more kind-hearted teacher, werewolf, man. 

Lupin continued. “I’m not going to tell you to stay away from him.”

Something in Draco relaxed and he promptly ignored the trembling breath leaving his lips. 

“But,” Lupin continued. “I don’t think this is a good time for you two to be together.”

The relaxation immediately disappeared as Draco demanded, “What do you mean?”

“What I mean,” Lupin continued. “Is that I think you’re not like you father in any sense. I think you’re more of an opposite truth be told.” A small smile seemed to have made its permanent home on Lupin’s lips. “And I don’t mean this as something bad, but as something rather merciful...” Here Lupin’s smile dropped. “…Because let’s face it. If you tell Harry to bring you the moon, he might do it.”

Draco felt chills creep up his spine. 

“If you earlier had demanded that Ron had to answer for his words Ron might be no more. If you had told him to kill every werewolf in the castle-”

Draco really didn’t like where this was going. “Harry was not going to do anything, no matter what I said.” Draco said with a conviction he didn’t really feel. “He’s your friend and he’s fought for peace and for this rebellion. He has set his mind to better the world, to actually make a change. He’s not throwing that away because of me.”

“But don’t you see,” Lupin said with urgency colouring his voice. “He is.”

Missing meetings, Draco’s mind repeated. Taking his time to everyday meet up with Draco and ease the itch. Missing negotiations. 

“He’s not,” Draco said again even if the crack in his voice betrayed that yes, he knew being with him took time away from the MCE rebellion. “It’s just guilt.”

Lupin merely shook his head.

“We werewolves don’t get to be teachers,” Lupin said after a moment of silence. The subject changed rather abrupt. “So you have to excuse Ron. But he has a brother he loves, a brother who’s now a werewolf. And Ron didn’t know that we, werewolves, don’t get to have normal jobs, education or families. That we’re expected to drink wolfsbane every full moon but that it’s expensive and as I said werewolves don’t have jobs, so we simply can’t afford it. Instead many of us has to lock ourselves in a basement and wait it out.”

Draco held his breath as Lupin’s escalated. 

“Do you know what happen when the wolf is stuck in a small room during the full moon without being able to hunt or run freely?”

Draco’s answer was nothing more than an exhale. “No.”

“The wolf starts hurting itself. We wake up bloody and weak, sometimes even dying.”

“The wolf kills you?” Draco felt something like bile rise in the back of his throat. 

“Sometimes,” Lupin answered. “Sometimes we wake up long enough to realise this time was the time the wolf went too far. Sometimes you just die, never seeing the morning light.”

Draco’s eyes burned as he tried to get his head to stop spinning. 

“Harry is stopping this from happening,” Lupin’s voice was low. “He’s distributing wolfsbane, or else providing a forest for us to roam. He’s saving lives every month, and we’re all terrified that that will stop. That we will have to return to basements with the knowledge that the next full moon might be our last. Ron fear for his brother’s life just as so many other of us fear for our own.”

Draco felt stupid. So ignorant and stupid. He’d been living with the fear of these months being his lasts while werewolves all over the world for hundreds of years had to live with the exact same fear. The werewolf had it quite possible worse since it all was repeated in a vicious circle, every month, every year, for all of their lives. 

Why hadn’t he known? Why hadn’t anyone told him? How wasn’t this common knowledge? 

“I’m sorry,” he managed to wheeze out even though the words meant nothing. His hands shook slightly. 

“Don’t be,” Lupin said. “It’s not your fault and I didn’t tell you this to make you feel guilty. I just need you to understand what’s on line for me, Ron, us, every creature walking this earth.”

“I would never-,” Draco began with fiery expression. 

“I know,” Lupin said, but goddamn it he sounded unsure. “Or rather… I want to say that I know you would do nothing to hurt us, but Draco,” Lupin shook his head solemnly. “You’ve been attacked by werewolves and vampires, there’s all the reason in the world for you to hate us. How about when you start thinking about all the pain we’ve caused you? All the bruises? Don’t tell me that you haven’t wished for the whole MCE to be out of your face.”

Actually, Draco had wished for just that. But that was after his encounter with the news that he was dying. After Harry had been all but gone, absent and elusive. 

Lupin took his silence for what it was. 

“Draco,” he continued. “If it was simply me, I would trust you in a heartbeat. But it’s not just me. It’s every werewolf ever turned or born. We could actually live without the fear of dying or waking up without a shredded torso and snapped bones.” Lupin shook his head. “And now I’m only telling you about us wolves, think of every other creature. Think of what this rebellion could do.”

“I wouldn’t tell Harry to stop fighting for equality,” Draco said with conviction even as his mind struggled with absorbing the information given to him. “I would encourage him.”

“But don’t you see,” Lupin sounded frustrated. “He would listen to you. If you changed your mind he would still listen to you. You have the potential to wrap one of the world’s most dangerous creatures around your fingers.”

“Well, he has the potential to kill me with a mere snap of his,” Draco shot back. The fire burning bright inside of him again. He understood Lupin’s reasoning, truly. But he wouldn’t tell Harry what to do, he wouldn’t misuse any faith Harry had put in him. Couldn’t Lupin see that?

“But he wouldn’t kill you, he would never even touch you with ill intent,” Lupin said. “He’s mad about you.”

And that right there was the core wasn’t it. Harry was ‘mad’ about him. But really whom the fuck knew what was going through the vampire’s mind half of the time?

“Well,” Draco said, bitterness wrapped around every syllable. “I wouldn’t call it mad. He was a freaking ice-statue until yesterday- Oh wait, eleven days ago. It wasn’t until I was dying that he got hit with a blast of guilt.”

Lupin’s eyes flickered towards the floor before meeting his gaze head on again. “He was trying to distance himself from you?”

“Because of the Pull?”

“Because of himself,” Lupin truly did sound his appearance as his eyes redirected themselves to stare at the dull ceiling. “You’re not the first one he’s been with since he gained the Elder powers.”

Draco knew that, subconsciously he did anyway, probably. Come on, Harry was the Elder Vampire; other vampires were more likely than not throwing themselves at his feet. Still, the conformation left a sour taste in his mouth. 

“That didn’t go well,” Lupin drifted off for a moment. “Harry just has such a big and kind heart. He gives it away too easy. Gives himself away too easy.” Lupin allowed his eyes to meet with Draco’s again. His usual kind orbs harder than ever. 

Lupin was clearly very protective of the black-haired enigma. 

“But I’ve never seen him this…” Lupin drifted for a moment, clearly struggling with which word to use. “…submissive before.”

“He’s not,” Draco had to correct. Because Harry really wasn’t. But then he remembered his own hand tangled in dark locks and everything felt complicated. 

“No, he is not,” Lupin agreed, almost sounding afraid. “Only to you.”

Draco didn’t know the right answer to that statement. Hell, he didn’t know the words to say right now. Not with Lupin defensive and tired while he himself hurt. The silence that lingered was deafening. 

At last Draco managed to press forth the question he knew he would regret asking. “So what do you want me to do?”

Lupin merely shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “How can I do anything more than tell you why I think you and him is a bad idea.”

“We’re good together,” Draco lied as he felt his chest constrict.

“From what I have seen,” Lupin begun carefully. Like he was afraid of stepping over the shards of Draco’s broken feelings. Which was ridicules, because Draco’s feelings had just been somewhat healed. “Neither of you have been happy since you met one another.”

“Yeah,” Draco said because he knew that. “But we haven’t been together,” – not in a normal way at least – “we’ve just been through hell with the Pull and all these secrets and our differences-”

“You are very different,” Lupin repeated the word like it would make Draco see sense. I didn’t. 

“Lupin,” Draco said with a calm voice. “Right now I’m not going to end things with Harry. I’m not going to try to control him or make him set the rebellion aside because of me. We’ll talk, work things out, maybe try to actually put things behind us. I’m still under the Pull, this school is still under occupation and everything is a mess.”

Lupin merely nodded once. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say than beg you to trust me, trust Harry.”

“Yeah, I guess I will have to,” Lupin didn’t sound disappointed per say, but he neither sounded particular happy. He dragged a tired hand over his face. “I want what’s best for Harry, I really do. But its hard when you have to take thousands, millions of others into account regarding one mans happiness.”

“Yeah,” Draco relaxed slightly against his seat. “I get that.”

The silence that lingered were no longer tense but rather peaceful. Draco’s mind whirled but despite Lupin’s very much founded fears he couldn’t regret his decision. Right now while Hogwarts were occupied and he was still inflicted with the Pull, there was no reason to stop what was already too late from happening. Right now he and Harry would work things out. Draco tried to feel firm in his decision but since when had he ever felt truly certain when it came to Harry bloody Potter. 

Still there was one detail that his mind simply couldn’t let go. 

He cleared his throat.

“So,” Draco tried to start of casually in the silent room. “About Harry’s earlier partners-”

BAAM! The doors to the hospital were thrown opened and out marched Ron. His face was thunderous as he swept past the duo on the sofas and Draco watched the red-head disappear down the corridor in a swirl of robes. 

Lupin rose from opposite him. “I should go,” he said as he already had begun to make his way after Ron. “Again, Draco, I’m sorry for all that you’ve been put through. And if you ever need someone to talk to you know where to find me.”

Lupin’s amber gaze lingered as Draco watched the tall man hurry towards the fading sound of Ron’s footsteps. There was a thousands emotions hiding in Lupin’s eyes: worry, regret, sadness but maybe most prominent of all kindness. 

Always with the kindness. 

“Take care,” Lupin offered as he turned his back at Draco. 

“You too,” Draco answered hoping the werewolf hearing would help Lupin hear the whispered words. 

Judging by the quick wave Draco got in return, werewolf hearing had yet to disappoint. 

***

“Sirius Black,” the overly sweet voice made Sirius want to murmur dark curses even as he turned around with a strained smile.

“Bellatrix,” he answered coolly. 

She smirked at him with those too open eyes gleaming of madness and hatred. How she’d not been locked up yet was a mystery to him, but then again, he could almost bet his wand arm that a Mr Riddle was part of that particular mystery’s answer. 

Sirius allowed his dark robes to hide his front as he dragged a hand through his rather long raven hair. “What brings me the pleasure?”

The mad woman’s smirk turned down right vicious. “We’re having another meeting tonight,” she whispered. Excitement making her otherwise lulling body movements slightly rigid. She flicked a long curl of hair out of her face. “At the usual place after the wolf’s hour.”

“So sudden,” Sirius replied, a bad feeling settling in the gut of his stomach. 

The answering gleam in Bellatrix eyes told him that yes… this was bad. “It’s time,” was all the answer he needed. “Tonight,” she said as she twirled away, making ministry workers passing by send her curious looks. 

Sirius watched his monster of a cousin disappear down the hall, chills running down to his core. He needed to get hold of Harry… Or Remus. Anyone really, but not now. Not after Bellatrix had just dropped the news, not when he was likely watched by Merlin knows whom. You could never truly know how many people reported to Mr Riddle at the Ministry. 

He wouldn’t have time to contact them the usual way that was for sure, Sirius thought as he once again started to wander. Co-workers greeting him as he walked towards his office. Maybe he could try an owl? The Floo Network was out of question, to easy to track.

His mind flickered to the white owl in his apartment, Harry’s owl Hedwig. Or his old owl, Sirius supposed, memories rather forgotten making a painful appearance. 

Before tonight he would have to take contact, nobody could know the whims of Mr Riddle, madman as he was. Better be safe than sorry, Sirius decided. Especially with Lucius out of his goddamn mind with anger and worry. 

He slipped into his office with ease despite his insides screaming. The afternoon was slow and if Sirius watched the clock one too many times nobody noticed. 

When he finally managed to sneak away from his office the only thing keeping him walking at a calm pace was the knowledge that he still strolled the halls of the Ministry. So when he arrived to the fireplaces lined up next to one another he was more than eager to be on his way. 

He took a handful of powder before saying the regular address “number twelve Grimmauld Place.”

Shame that in his haste to simply be on his way, Sirius failed to noticed the shadow following him. 

A shadow with too wide gleaming eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ Hi, sorry for the three-day-late update x)
> 
> Anyway here’s the next chapter! Next one will be out in about two weeks :) Thank you all for staying tuned, and if you have any opinions what so ever, don’t hesitate to share them with me :D It’s always a delight to read your comments :)
> 
> Have a continuing great Day/Night! Cheers!


	13. Ominous Signs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/ This chapter’s not beta’d

“Perhaps I ought to have seen this coming,” the poisonous words were whispered in the damp dungeon as Sirius tried to hold on to conscious. Why? He’d long forgotten, at the moment it did seem easier to fall asleep, let go of the pain and forget. 

“You did have a less than favourable way to act out your teenage rebellion, but this...”

Another jerk of a bone white wand and Sirius gasped as another wave of pain overtook his senses. 

“I suppose that I believed blood would prevail.”

Sirius simply trashed against the dirty floor, a distant thought breaking it’s way through the whirl of darkness: If you black out he’ll have your mind, he’ll have all the knowledge he would want about Harry and Remus and the MCE. Sirius let out another chilling scream as he grasped for the strings of consciousness trying to slip from his grip. 

Crucio simply hurt. Hurt like nothing else. And still, Harry needed to know, to be warned. 

But it just hurt so much.

“You did come back after all. Reformed and yes dear Black, you managed to fool even me. I should have suspected something when you returned with steel protecting your mind.”

Hold on to something, Sirius thought as he trashed against the floor. Harry’s first step, Remus’ smile as they watched a dark-haired baby squealing ‘Da’ for the first time, Remus’ smile... 

“And to think you called me uncle Tom once.”

The moment Sirius returned home to find his two favourite people in the whole world sleeping on the sofa with a large book between them. Toddler drooling and werewolf snoring. 

“You always did have repelling thoughts about that werewolf.”

Remus, Remus, Harry, Remus, Harry…

The torture seemed to go on forever, but underneath the screams and tears Sirius held on. He remembered why he was here and why this was all worth it, and Merlin was it worth it. Riddle continued with his madman act, trying to break Sirius down but without success. Sirius watched in his mind as Harry lost his first teeth as Riddle tortured him for the tenth of times and for a moment Sirius wondered what was real and a dream. 

Perhaps he was still in their cottage? Perhaps he was still sleeping next door to kind-smiles-and-ragged-looks? Perhaps Harry was sitting in front of him, staring at the apple in which his tooth were currently embedded in with suspicion. 

Maybe the dark dungeon and mad voice were a nightmare? 

It must have stopped eventually. Or maybe he just stopped dreaming? Because there was a door slamming and promises about ‘we’ll see each other soon enough’ and then it was dark. Sirius was afraid of sleeping. He was so weak. So vulnerable and the future of thousands of lives rested inside of his mind and even more so the future of Remus.

He drifted to and fro never asleep but never truly awake. He thought he saw Harry – his Harry, five-year-old Harry – playing in the corner of the gritty basement currently his cell and Remus’ voice visited him repeatedly. Whispering of simple things, easy things, like groceries, cleaning the house, having a picnic outside. He wished himself back to a time where everything had seemed simple and promising. 

He wasn’t really surprised when the door opened. The dread kept at bay returned full force and he couldn’t suppress the whimper that let itself out; his chapped lips hurting almost as much as his soul. 

What did surprise him on the other hand was the woman making her way down the stairs. Her blonde – almost white hair – as luminous as her skin in the gloom room sticking out against the dark background. Narcissa took a final step down to the dirty floor, her pace graceful and cold. 

“Sirius,” she said sternly. Her voice cold and flat as well as slightly repulsed – by him he had no doubt. 

He tried to respond, but as he opened his mouth to acknowledge her a cough fit seized him and he failed to respond. Instead he lay on the floor, his very bones aching in their core as he wheezed and gulped desperate breaths of air. All the while Narcissa stood firm, her gaze unnerving and maybe a bit pitiful. 

“You’re a spy for the MCE,” she continued without acknowledging his pain. 

Sirius gathered himself, this time merely nodded while whispering a faint “Yes.” 

She snorted, even that act done gracefully; as she bent down to look him in the eye. “You always had an unhealthy attachment to that wolf. I noticed it, Lucius notice it, even Mr Riddle-” she broke of. Her voice turning to nothing as Sirius merely nodded through layers of blistering pain. He was in dire need of healers, of that he had no doubt. 

The Malfoy lady, his somewhat friend once, just shook her head. “Look where that love have left you,” her voice sounded sad. 

“It was worth it,” Sirius murmured as he remembered those few years of happiness. It was worth it, is worth it, because once he’d been utterly happy. Living everyday close to Remus… silly, kind, brave Remus. 

Narcissa shifted again. “My son,” she begun as Sirius breathed deeply though his nose. Of course Narcissa wanted to know of Draco, still stuck in Hogwarts, a place run by the very thing the Malfoys feared most: creatures. That this specific group had taken a stand against violence didn’t seem to calm the ancient family at all, rather the opposite. 

And Remus latest message. Harry… idiotic, lovable Harry had done it again. Falling in love with the worst possible choice. It was almost like he wanted his stupidly big heart broken. 

“It’s just,” Narcissa said with fear showing in her otherwise blank face. “He’s a Malfoy, if they found out…” 

Her fear is not unwarranted. Far from. 

“Have you told them of him?” Her voice was hard even as her hands trembled where she has them cradled in her lap. “If you or your rebellion of freaks has touched even one hair on his head-”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said because he truly was, sorry that is for the lie he was about to tell. “He’s bound to Potter, destined to become a vampire.”

Narcissa went quiet. 

“If this rebellion fails he will die, because Mr Riddle will make sure no freaks are left alive, no matter last name.”

The kick is not all unexpected. Still, Sirius feel surprised. “What have you done,” Narcissa wailed as she landed another kick along Sirius already smarting ribs. “What have you done to Draco!?” 

She stopped kicking. Instead Narcissa merely slummed to the ground, pressing herself to a wall as tears begun to flood down her face. 

Sirius felt less guilt than before as he held trembling hands over his ribs, knowing there will be bruises even if nothing is broken.

“He was good,” Narcissa pressed forth, her voice cracking and trembling while tears kept falling. Her usual pale face a shade redder and her eyes big and puffy. “He never hurt anybody. He would never have hurt even a foul freak! And now you- you-”

“He’s still him,” Sirius tried despite the pain of simply breathing. “He’s just a bit different.”

“He’s a vampire.”

“A freak?” Sirius asked as he tried to shift slightly. The pain the small motion brought forth almost making him black out. 

“He could never be,” Narcissa hissed in retort. “But he’s not Draco anymore.”

“How would you know?”

“I… I…” Narcissa let out another wail, a mother mourning the loss of her only child. “I can’t live without him. He was the only good thing I had.”

“He’s not gone,” Sirius said as Narcissa looked at him with big, tear-filled eyes. “Potter care for his own. He cares for Draco. But Riddle won’t once he finds out.”

A new understanding filled Narcissa’s eyes. “You want me to help you,” she almost growled. 

“Yes,” Sirius managed through layers of pain. “Aren’t parents due to send letter once again this Friday?”

Narcissa only stared at him with silent hate. 

Sirius embraced the well-deserved hatred because he knew he couldn’t tell the truth if he wanted Narcissa to cooperate. After all, the truth was that Draco more likely than not had the most powerful creature walking this earth wrapped around his fingers. If Riddle found out… Sirius shivered… But he wouldn’t. And if a hate filled glare from a mourning mother was what he would have to suffer, so be it. 

***

Draco is moving from his dorm to the MCE headquarters. A room away from Harry’s. He’s unsure if he should feel anxious or simply pleased about the move. It’s not like he strived to be nearer the mythical Elder Vampire quite like this (or maybe he did) but – as he at the moment isn’t even able to quite function by himself, much less defend his fragile body – maybe it’s for the best. 

Blaise doesn’t think so. 

“Draco,” he’d whined as he’d tried to stop the blonde from leaving. 

Draco was now sitting in his former dorm bed while Dana helped him pack his things. Dana who’d after hugging him had offered a helping hand in getting him settled in his new room. 

“My sister’s been at the quarters so much that she knows the place inside out, and…” here Dana had lowered her voice as she’d helped Draco up another set of stairs “…I might have snuck in a time or two.”

So Dana, small, smart and smirking Dana, who no matter her chattering outer kept sending him worried looks when she thought he couldn’t see, was now helping him. 

Draco understood her worry. He did. After all, his skin was sickly pale instead of glistering alabaster, his neck almost blue from Kóbor’s attack and his strength close to gone. Dana had mumbled “too light,” when she’d saved him from stumbling earlier, easily supporting his bodyweight with small, strong hands. Dana might be young, but she wasn’t stupid. 

So she worried, as did Blaise. Pansy once again refused to speak with him. But then again, she’d yet to see how close to death he appeared to be. 

“Don’t go,” Blaise said again as he tried to physically stop the young gryffindor from packing a pair of Draco’s shirts. Dana only jerked the cloth hard and growled. The older slytherin gave her an annoyed glare even as he allowed her to tear the shirts out of his hands. Trembling hands, Draco noted. 

“I have to,” Draco said, turning his face away from the dorm mess towards the sunset. “It’s not long left until my time here’s expired,” he gestured to his neck, the itch almost unbearable despite Harry feeding not even five hours ago. 

Blaise moved closer to his bed, stopping inches in front of him. 

“So you’re going away to die?” He sounded angry, so angry and full of hate. The strong feelings a surprise since the tall slytherin usually was all about being blasé and detached. 

“No,” Draco said, his hand coming up to rest on Blaise’s shoulder. “If nothing else comes along, I’ll turn.”

Blaise’s eyes widened, emotions flickering through his gaze in a fast pace: relief, surprise, regret, disappointment and something warm that Draco was afraid to name. 

“Really?” Blaise asked, his voice unnaturally blank. 

“Really,” Draco confirmed, finding the knowledge that this hell his body was going through would soon be over calming. “And I know I might be different. I know that maybe I might lose something irreplaceable when turning.” Draco’s eyes found Blaise’s. “Please don’t resent me,” his wobbling voice spoke of too many feelings. So un-slytherin, his mind piped in. 

“Never,” Blaise whispered as his mask disappeared from his haunted features. The blank look replaced by such heart wrecking misery that something in Draco crumbled. He didn’t resist as Blaise pressed a light kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be by your side whenever you want me to be.”

Draco swallowed as he clung to every word spilling over Blaise’s lips. 

“Even if you’re about to set fire to the world, I’ll help you. I’ll always be there, whatever you want.” He was so very sincere. It was almost frightening. Since when did Draco deserve such loyalty? 

None the less, he was grateful. Maybe Blaise’s promise would change as Draco did but for now, all he needed was the reassurance that Blaise was supporting him. After turning maybe it would not matter? Maybe everything that mattered right now would change? Maybe Draco would change?

It was thoughts like these that had kept him up all night.

“Thank you,” Draco whispered. 

***

Dana dropped his belongings in a medium-sized room. The smile on her face not wholly sincere despite her happy chatter.

“You’ll love it here,” she said as she brought her arms out sideways. As if she was promoting the corner-room. Windows grand just as the double bed. Draco found it quite to his liking. He had his own fireplace and bookshelves to put his books in. There was a dark brown sofa in front of the dying fire that seemed soft and comfortable. As he moved to stand in front of the window he could see out over the lake, a perfect view. The moon was up, Draco dully noted. 

“Down the corridor is Nem if you want to say anything to her, and Remus lives close by as well! As does Harry of course!”

Draco smiled as she chattered away, obviously aiming to distract him from his bodily pain. Always in pain these days. 

“Thank you,” he said after a while. Smiling towards the fuzzy haired girl tiredly but sincerely. “I think I’m going to sleep.”

The not so subtly hint didn’t go unnoticed by Dana as she stopped talking about his new neighbours and instead looked ready to cry. 

Draco found himself at loss. “Not that I want you to go,” he hasten to say. 

Dana just raised her hand. “It’s fine, I know.” And yeah, that was big fat tears running down her face. “Just promise me not to die. You see, you’re my only friend really and-”

“Dana,” Draco interrupted her by pulling her closer, his hand grabbing a weak hold of her arm. He hugged her because dying apparently made you a hufflepuff. “I’m not dying.”

“‘Mione said they were so close to finding a cure,” she hugged him back fiercely. “If you only hold out a few more days.”

Draco smiled down at her. “I can’t really control this,” he answered. “Theoretically I could have a month left to live, but at the same time the Pull might become too much tomorrow.”

“You’re strong,” she whispered as she buried her face in his stomach, Draco refused to believe he’d ever been that short. 

“Nah,” he laughed as he poked at her bicep. “You carried my things over here.”

She looked up at him from underneath fuzzy hair. “I might have used Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Sneaky,” Draco smiled. “We’ll yet make a slytherin out of you.”

Dana only sniggered. 

But they did have to say good night and Draco promised to yes, let her visit and yes, he would be careful and stay away from any vampires not Harry. Like that’s going to work, he thought with a snort. If Draco had gotten a gold-galleon every time he’d been in mortal danger these past months… 

Still, Dana was upset. Just as Draco should be upset, and yes he was. But he’d been that for such a long time that he rather felt resign more than anything else at the moment. And just maybe did the knowledge of turning calm him… despite the little voice screaming ‘traitor’.

He went to bed wide-awake. Dana’s chatter painfully absent and he found himself missing it terribly. There was a quiet in here which he’d only found in his own room back at the manor. No snoring roommates or fussing of bedclothes. Just him, the moon and his thoughts. 

It was almost a blessing as he spotted green eyes in the corner of the room. 

“Hey,” Draco found himself saying as Harry stepped out of assumingly nothing. Harry gave him a quick once over, his eyes lingering on his bruised neck. Guilt, Draco’s mind supplied. Anger, his gut insisted. Draco found himself distantly wonder about Kóbor’s current health. 

Harry floated over the floor to Draco’s bed, hovering at the side with worried eyes. “Hey,” he replied softly. 

Draco smiled slightly at the entity. “Green,” he said after a heartbeat of silence. “Dark green.”

Harry’s lips curved upwards. “So slytherin,” he replied a hint of humour lancing his voice. “Mine is red I suppose.”

Draco’s lips stretched a little more. “So very vicious of you.”

Harry shook his head. “Not blood red,” he said firmly, pressing himself as close as possible to the bed without actually climbing in. “Brown red, like old leather.” 

“Isn’t that more brown than red?”

Harry just shrugged; fangs showing between slightly parted lips. “Dunno, Don’t really care.”

Draco nodded in acceptance. “Cat,” he said firmly.

“Dog,” Harry smiled back. “Always dog.”

Draco rolled his eyes; he supposed that’s only natural taking in consideration the thousands of werewolf Harry cared for. “Get in will you?” he said with a small huff. The relieved look on the vampire’s face was just as endearing as ridiculous. 

“Just because we’re taking things slow doesn’t mean you can’t touch me,” Draco said as the dark-haired entity settled by his side on the bed. Carefully curling a cool arm over his waist, dragging Draco’s body to settle against his. 

“I know we said that,” Harry whispered back. “But then again, I haven’t seen you since then. Maybe you’d changed your mind.”

“Nah,” Draco said with faked casualty. ‘I’m not like you,’ his mind whispered. Old fears coming to light once again, but instead of dwelling in the pain, Draco allowed the knowledge to pass through him. Hurting less but still. 

Harry seemed to hear the silent words anyhow. “I’m not changing my mind,” he said with conviction. “I’ve lost you too many times for that.”

“You’re not changing your mind until I’m either turned or cured,” Draco corrected, because how could his words be anything less than correct. 

Harry hugged him closer. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to let you go ever,” he confessed in the protection of the dark. “Not even if you ask me.”

Old accusations welled up inside of Draco, but he held them back. If that was what Harry believed, perhaps he should allow the vampire to believe in forever and happily ever after. Everyone needed hope after all. Even the almighty it appeared. 

“Morning,” Draco said as he continued their on-going game. 

“Morning,” Harry agreed. 

“Really?” Draco said surprised. “I always reckoned that creatures of the night loved the dark and all that…”

“Well, I’m not bound to the dark.”

Draco made a humming sound. “Guess you’re not.”

There was a heartbeat of silence. Harry’s slow breathing falling in time with Draco’s as they lay side by side in the bed, one of Harry’s arms still curling over Draco’s waist. The blonde tried to ignore the tingling feeling the arm made him feel. ‘It’s just a freaking arm’, he reminded his brain. And after all, they had decided to go slow. Harry needed to concentrate on the MCE and that meant he couldn’t meet up with Draco or keep a constant eye on him. So Draco had moved here, next door to the dark entity, no problem. And well… if Lupin had given him an approving look during their brief “hello” in the hallway then that was all good. It might even have strengthened his decision. 

“Does it itch?” Harry asked as he breathed against Draco’s cheek. 

“Yeah,” the blonde affirmed. “Of course it does.”

Harry silently took hold of Draco’s wrist, turning the blonde so that they lay facing each other. His green eyes silently asking for permission. 

“Could we just wait a minute?” Draco stilled the vampire by laying a calming hand above his. The slytherin swallowed, suddenly nervous. But he had to ask this, he’d been wondering about it since yesterday when Lupin and he had “talked”. It wasn’t necessary, it was petty and still… Draco was curious. Unbearably so. 

It was also a bit scary, because no matter Harry’s whispers of holding on and not letting go, who could really be sure. He swallowed past the lump of nervousness, remembering the promise of staying honest that he and Harry had made yesterday in the hospital. 

He honestly wanted to know. If Harry didn’t want to tell, fine. But there was nothing wrong in simply asking. 

“Blaise,” Draco whispered. His heart fluttering as Harry’s soft gaze turned harder. 

“Blaise?” He repeated slowly. Like he was dedicating the name to his memory. Draco was for a second convinced he’d made a terrible mistake. Harry was a possessive bastard, despite Harry’s best efforts to convince him otherwise Draco wasn’t an idiot. 

“Yeah,” he confirmed with a careful voice. “Once, years ago.”

Harry simply stared at him not giving away much as the darkness seemed to grow thicker. 

“It was a fluke,” Draco continued. “We were drunk, young…” he backtracked. “…younger. Blaise had a girlfriend and yeah… We decided not to let it destroy our friendship,” Draco trailed off, looking at Harry with questioning eyes. “You?”

Harry sounded strangely distant. “My earlier one night stands?” 

“No,” Draco corrected as he held Harry’s hand tighter, the vampire lax in his grip. “Or I don’t know, relationship or whatever?” 

Harry stared at him with green eyes, and if there was something like suspicion mixed with hurt in the green pools Draco chose to ignore it. They were supposed to be honest with one another. So there… honesty. 

“Lupin’s talked to you,” was all Harry said as if he fucking knew exactly what had happened yesterday without even being in the room. 

“Well, yeah,” Draco said as he shuffled closer. “He didn’t tell me much mind you. Just that it ended badly.”

Harry let out a sound between a laugh and a sob. And yeah, even Draco realised that ‘touchy’ wasn’t even close to describing the sensibility of this subject. “Well,” Harry said as he tried to distance himself, slip away. Draco scrambled to hold onto the hand currently retreating from his hold. He wouldn’t let Harry fly fucking solo again. “Bad is one way to put it.”

“Hey, hey,” Draco said as he forced his tired body to wrap itself around Harry’s. “Talk to me,” he mumbled. The words eerily familiar yet new to his lips. “You don’t have to tell me about it but at least say so instead of just shutting me out.”

Harry shifted, like he still wanted to disappear like smoke in the wind, a feat Draco didn’t fully exclude from the vampire’s range of abilities. He pressed up tighter. 

“I shouldn’t have asked,” he whispered as he pressed calming lips to the vampire’s temples; cool skin meting his sickly overheated bows. “I’m just trying to understand you,” Draco continued as Harry’s struggles to ‘get away’ slowly stopped. 

Harry shifted, pressing into Draco instead of fighting his grip. Once again throwing a cool arm over his middle to merge their bodies impossible closer. The erratic breathing and the fact that Draco couldn’t see Harry’s eyes made him a bit worried. Enough so to croon calming words into the shadowlike hair tingling his face. Something his mother used to do to him when he was small, before he’d learned to hide his pain. 

He almost laughed bitterly. To think he would be the one to sooth Harry for once… 

Harry lay pressed against him for some time. Not that Draco minded per se, but as time ticked away with nothing but silence and coolness to distract him, the itch made itself known. For some reason he didn’t want to ask Harry, the one and only Elder Vampire, resting in his arms, to feed. It felt like a request which surely would make them wake up from this strangely peaceful silence. So he held off the words burning on his tongue. Just as he held on to Harry, grasping his own downfall and happiness personified while murmuring reassuring words. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said after a while. His body clinging to Draco, his mere broadness almost engulfing what was left of the thin slytherin. “I can’t talk about her… Ginny,” he continued, his words trembling as badly as his hands, the slender fingers pressing into Draco’s back with a bruising force. “She was actually Ron’s sister…” He continued after a heartbeat. “But I can’t… I’m sorry.”

Draco sighed in his mind even as his mouth whispered words of understanding and condolence. “I understand,” he promised even as his heart screamed to know about Ron’s sister. Ron, the one who constantly spoke against Draco being anywhere near Harry. The very same one who called him a distraction and a liability. 

“Now,” Harry said as he detangled himself slightly from Draco’s slim limbs. His face shut off despite the smile he was trying to pull. “How about I stop the itch and then well get you something to eat? Nem has recommended chocolate frogs and chicken to accompany the two marvellous brews which she’s prepared herself.”

Draco tried to respond to Harry trying. His smile was probably slightly more convincing, not enough to fool the vampire, but at least enough so that Harry knew he too was trying. 

“Please,” he said and presented his right arm to Harry. 

The vampire just shook his head, his smile suddenly more genuine. “The left one please,” he said with mirth making its way into his green eyes. 

Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What for?”

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” was all Harry said, sounding smug and genuinely happy. “The owls will start flying again. Maybe you have someone you want to write to?”

***

Draco didn’t know if he was happy to finally be able to fucking communicate with his parents or if he’d rather not have this opportunity. Soon he would presumably be dead to the people who’d raised him but maybe there was a slight chance they would listen to his writing before he would have to turn into a vampire. Unlikely, he thought as he stared down at the unopened letter from his mother, but worth a shot. 

Sure, even since he was small his father had done his outmost to convict dark creatures, lock them behind bars or have their very soul removed – “it’s not so much a soul as their instincts,” his father used to say. 

So he was under no illusions that he could change his parents’ very beliefs despite being their only son, but at least he might be able to plant a seed of something resembling doubt. 

Harry seemed to have been genuinely happy for him yesterday, like he’d forgotten whom Draco’s parents really was. Or maybe he was just happy for Draco, despite that happiness involving people who fought against everything Harry was and stood for. Yeah, that actually sounded like something Harry would do. 

The letter was addressed Draco Malfoy, all formal and proper and if he knew his mother right the inside would be so as well. But between the lines of ramblings he would spot the real message, the questions asking if he was all right, the words condemning this occupation and also the inquires filled with worry. They’d always corresponded like that, something his mother and father likely thought would serve them well at the moment. Nobody understanding the true letter, just reading pleasantries. 

So to say that Draco was surprised to see the first line saying “To Mr Harry P,” in his mothers handwriting would have been the years gravest understatement (and he’d received the news of him dying mere months ago). 

The letter said:

 

To Mr Harry P

Snake with company will come through the backyard during Moon.   
Snake venomous.   
Padfoot is in the cage.

Be safe and tell Moony to be so too. 

S

 

Draco stared at the letter in his hands. It was his mother who’d written this, he knew her handwriting. But why would she write this, this wasn’t her words? It was almost as if someone had forced her to write this? But how? His mother was a strong woman, if she refused to do something nobody and nothing would get her to do it. 

Who were Moony, Snake and Padfoot? And why in all heavens names was this letter addressed to him on the outside? Why wasn’t it just addressed to Harry?

A dozen different suspicions were forming in his mind. Had his mother joined the rebellion (VERY unlikely), had she been threatened to write this (more likely), was this actually a plan to fool Harry (still unlikely – she couldn’t possible know about his and Draco’s involvement)…

Anyhow, he would have to get this letter to Harry. 

Draco rose from his bed, currently empty except for a few books lying about. His body protested loudly as he let out a quiet whine at the pain that echoed through his joints. He ignored the burning inside of his body as he managed to get his legs to function. Standing straight albeit wobbly. 

Walking to the door was tiring. Walking out the door was pain evoking. Walking down the corridor was only manageable because of sheer willpower. Draco was so tired as he stood in front of the door he knew in his mind belonged to Harry. He tired even more as nobody opened. 

He cursed silently. 

“Hey!” He turned around towards the voice – all too familiar – with a scowl. The redhead sprinting up to him didn’t look especially happy or helpful. Instead he saw thunderous brown eyes sweeping over his trembling features with a downturn of lips. Oh joy.

“Oh…” Draco said as he tried to collect himself, all too aware that he at this very moment appeared all but what he wanted to project. Tired, in pain, sick and slightly wobbly. Ron would truly have a field day. 

“What are you doing here?” Ron prompted as he took a last step towards Draco, placing himself a bit too close for comfort. “Harry’s in a meeting,” he sounded victoriously as he pointed it out to his face. 

Draco gave him an annoyed look. “I do actually have something pressing to tell him?” 

“Yeah, right,” Ron sounded hateful. “Is the pureblood not dealing well with pain?”

Draco couldn’t help but bristle at the weak taunt. He was after all, tired and in pain. “There haven’t been any validity to anyone’s blood-status in a long time-”

“No,” Ron said as he crossed his arms, stubbornly showing his lack of interest in helping. “But only because you needed to alienate creatures. There was no time for muggleborns versus purebloods when you needed every wizard to stand by your ancient misbeliefs.”

“Look,” Draco said as Ron spat out the words with a conviction almost frightening. “I’m not here to argue, I just need to see Harry.”

“And he’s in a meeting.” Ron refused to sway. Not that that fact was anything not expected. “So why don’t you return to your room and stay there until Harry has time to play domestic again?”

“Listen here,” Draco’s voice might have wobbled but his eyes blazed. “I don’t think you have anything to do with Harry’s and my relationship-”

“If it’s going to affect my family and friends damn right I have.”

“It’s not going to,” Draco’s words were short and harsh. But this redheaded idiot of a un-ravenclaw peasant was eating on his nerves. He knew Ron had reasons to be worried, after all Harry had confined that it had been this redhead’s very sister whom he’d had a “bad relationship” with. Draco just hoped this hatred wasn’t borne out of a he-should-be-with-my-sister-not-you feeling. 

“Listen,” Ron loomed closer as Draco backed into the door behind him. “I’m going to give you an advice. And if you have half a brain you’ll take it to heart.”

Draco refused to respond as Ron loomed closer, his gaze intent but not threatening per se. 

“People who’s involved with Harry get power drunk. That’s the end phase of your relationship. It might happen a few hours from now or it might happen in a few months,” for once Ron’s eyes weren’t filled with hatred but rather sadness. Draco desperately wanted to ask about Ginny, Ron’s sister. Had she transformed into someone who manipulated Harry for her own goals? 

“I’m not going to,” Draco said, grateful that his voice decided to stay strong during these very words.

“You will,” Ron shook his head. “They all do. Especially slytherins.”

“Harry has dated lots of slytherins has he?” Draco managed to make the question come out mockingly. 

“No,” Ron’s eyes narrowed. “But I know your kind. Master manipulators, cold hearted, cares about nobody outside of your own blood.”

“Oh, look here, now who is prejudice?”

Ron’s expression grew even more thunderous. “Even if you aren’t trying to screw things up for all of us right now you will. Believe me, you won’t like the person you become when you realise the world’s basically at your feet.”

Draco stared into brown eyes, for a moment wondering if perhaps Ron meant well in a weird, fucked-up way. “I’m dying,” Draco said because it was true. “I do not have the world at my feet.”

Ron deflated a bit. “That’s the only reason why you’re here,” his voice was sincere albeit dark. “And that’s the reasons half of our healer staff is busy looking for a cure.”

Draco dragged a tired hand over his weary face. He didn’t have time for squabbling. This letter might be urgent for all that he knew. 

“I need to bring something to Harry,” Draco said resolve colouring his words. He waved the letter in his hand. “It’s concerning the MCE.”

Ron stared at the letter, his eyes following the parchment with curious as well as suspicious eyes. “What is that?”

“I believed it to be from my mother,” he clutched the letter a bit harder in his weak grip. “But it isn’t.”

“Let me see it.”

Draco didn’t want to give the letter to Ron, not when he obviously hated his guts and refused not to believe that Draco wouldn’t turn into a power-hungry maniac at the best opportunity. He hesitated. 

Ron’s eyes turned pained for a split second, so quick Draco wondered if the hurt had been pure imagination. “Please,” the redhead said with something resembling sincerity in his gruff voice. 

Draco reluctantly handed the letter over. “Only because you asked so nicely,” he teased half-heartedly. Ron ignored him; too busy reading the short note. 

Draco watched in fascination as Ron went from hateful and slightly curious to paler than death in the matter of seconds. “Fuck,” he whispered as he began to run. 

“What!” Draco shouted after the running figure, his legs tired and shaky. The blonde watched as Ron disappeared around the corner knowing how impossible and slightly stupid it would be to even attempt to follow. Draco just didn’t have the physical ability to attempt to catch up. He tried to ignore the feeling of being a weak, pathetic mess.

At least the letter would reach Harry. Hopefully. He went back to his room, what else could he do really. Draco tried not to taste the bitterness in the back of his throat. 

***

“Draco Malfoy.”

There were lips pressed to the back of his neck and a voice whispering his name in his ear. If Draco hadn’t recognized the sinuous drawl he might have had a slight heart attack. As it was he pressed his sleep pliant body back towards the source. 

“What?” He asked as he felt the lips against his neck again. It felt good, real good. Actually if you ignored the buzzing of the Pull, waking up like this was simply brilliant. 

“Someone who I admire,” Harry whispered as he left another kiss along Draco’s pale skin. “Draco Malfoy.”

Draco turned around; sleep still fogging his mind as he faced darkness and moonlight. The pale light illuminating Harry’s pale skin in a most enchanting way that left Draco breathless. He couldn’t resist running a tired hand through shadowy hair. 

“And why is that,” he smiled. “I mean… if you ignore the obvious?”

“The obvious?” Harry sounded amused as he ran light fingers down Draco’s back. Pressing and rubbing slightly, the pressure heaven for the slytherin’s weary body. 

“Yeah,” Draco breathed as he pressed himself against the hands. Encouraging Harry to continue with small movements and muted groans. If he’d been more awake he might have been slightly embarrassed of his wantonness. “My brains, looks and wonderful sense of humour.”

“Humour? So that’s what you call your biting remarks? I just thought you were being mean.”

Draco couldn’t help but let out another groan as Harry’s hands kneaded his lower back. Merlin, he hadn’t even known his back needed a rub. “Very funny Harry,” he mumbled as he buried his face in a long, cool neck. Breathing in deeply and yeah, since when did Harry smell so addicting? He couldn’t name the aroma but was already certain he would get hooked in no time. 

Harry continued to move his hands over Draco’s back soothingly as the blonde clung to Harry and breathed in his scent. “Thank you,” the vampire whispered. “The letter… It was very important.”

Draco blinked as he remembered the letter. His mind dragging itself up from whatever sleepy sea bottom it had rested. “The letter…” he murmured as he tried to sort out his thoughts. Half of him still content lying curled into Harry, enjoying the backrub while the other half wanted to demand answers. “What did it mean?”

Harry pressed closer, his hands light and so comfortable. Draco felt a chill of warmth run down his spine. “It was a warning,” he told in a hushed voice. “That Tom and his follower will attack.”

Draco was suddenly wide-awake, he detangled himself from Harry with haste. “What?” They would attack!? His mother and father would join, of course they would. They would want to free him and kill the creatures holding him captured. There was a hurricane beginning to take form in the midst of Draco’s mind. “I thought you said the negotiations were going fine!”

“They are,” Harry said as he tried to embrace Draco once again, tugging his wrist gently. “The minister doesn’t know about this, we wouldn’t either if not because of the letter.”

His pulse raced and his breaths were coming out uneven, Draco clung to any shred of sanity and calm he could find. “But, but-” His mother and father. Fighting. Death. A flash of blonde, almost white hair and red everywhere flickered inside of his mind; Draco couldn’t help but whine low in his throat. “No, no, no-” he whispered repeatedly. 

“Calm down, we’ll defend ourselves peacefully.”

“You can’t promise that,” Draco whispered as he saw people he’d grown up with, his father’s friends, laying slaughtered on the grounds of Hogwarts. Harry standing over the pile of bodies with blood streaming from his mouth and a mad glimmer in his eyes. 

“Draco, DRACO!” Harry shook him, yeah actually shook him. Draco barely noticed that he’d started to claw at his neck. “Stop!” Harry threw him down on the bed, hovering over him and pining his straining wrists to the mattress. 

“You’re going to kill them,” Draco accused as horrible pictures kept popping up in his head. He knew Harry wouldn’t harm anyone unless he had a reason; problem was that he had a reason… A damn good one. And so Draco felt fear, because even if Harry might never harm him, what was stopping the vampire from doing so to others, to his parents? Harry already knew they were opposed creatures having any other right than serving wizards. The vampire had a right to hate them. Just as they hated him. 

Draco had never felt his heart strain this bad in different directions. 

Harry hovered over him, eyes filled with concern and a hint of panic. “I’m not going to hurt your parents.” His voice sounded thick. “You must know that I would never do such a thing.”

Did Draco know that? Maybe… Perhaps… He just had a hard time remembering Harry as something else than a threat to his very own kin. 

“I would never hurt anyone you love,” Harry said with desperation filling his eyes. “Now please stop Draco, you’re hurting yourself.”

Draco had to stop, his arms hurt from fighting Harry’s hold. He wasn’t thinking clearly, was in shock or whatever muggle term there was for his violent reaction. “I know, I know, I know,” he whispered as he tried to hold onto the knowledge that Harry – from what he knew – had never hurt a wizard. 

‘He has hurt you,’ a treacherous voice whispered inside of Draco. But that was okay; Draco could take Harry hurting him as long as he didn’t touch his parents. He loved his mother and father and he knew he would inflict the greatest pain of all onto them with turning but that didn’t mean he didn’t love them. That didn’t mean he didn’t want them to live. No, no, no. He loved both of them so, so much. 

It was all a bit too much really. He wanted desperately to see his mother again and his father. He wanted to be held and soothed by his mother’s kind hands and his fathers gentle voice. He wanted them both to continue to love him despite Draco becoming a vampire. He wanted that so badly that he almost began to cry.

But then the world came crashing down as he stared into green eyes that were both worried and sad. “Draco?” Harry whispered, his lips almost touching the blonde’s. 

…

Draco remembered as he’d returned to the hospital room after Lupin’s hasty retreat. Harry had sat on the bed with his face hiding in his hands. His whole body trembling slightly. Draco had asked how he was, how everything had turned out with Ron and missed meetings and him… Harry had only laughed sadly and said that everything was fine. He’d then said he wanted to apologise for everything Draco suffered through, and Draco had said he wanted to apologise for being an accusing git. 

“Not entirely wrong founded accusations,” Harry had mumbled through a fanged smile. 

Then they had kissed. Or almost kissed. 

Because Draco had withdrawn with a finger resting on the vampire’s lips. “Maybe we should take things slow this time around,” he’d proposed, not even knowing for sure if the vampire was interested in starting anything. 

“Yeah,” Harry had amended. “And being honest about what we’re feeling.” 

Draco had agreed. “Be honest about all of it.” He’d added. “Like twenty questions.”

“Like quid pro quo.” 

“You,” Draco had mumbled. His whole body straining to lean into Harry’s, but he himself refusing out of habit. “I like you.”

“You,” Harry answered. His eyes telling about three slightly different words being uttered before the vampire seemed to change his mind. Perhaps he’d noticed Draco’s panic? “I like you too.” 

“Good,” Draco had concluded and Harry had laughed in embarrassment but had kept his distance, not trying to place another kiss onto Draco’s lips. If he’d only known about Draco’s inner who begged the vampire to take whatever he wanted. 

“You should stay with me,” Harry had said then. “Safer.”

“What about taking it slow,” Draco had reminded even as his heart had done its best to beat out of his chest. 

“Next to mine then. That slow enough?” 

…

But Draco didn’t care about that. Not now. Slow… how about no. He soured up and placed a kiss on Harry’s lips, hard. The vampire seemed surprised as he returned the affection, his whole body bearing down on Draco’s. Sure, it hurt slightly, but nothing Draco couldn’t handle as he allowed his lips to part, welcoming the cool, familiar breath into his blazing hot mouth.

Not even a mute would have been able to suppress a moan. For a moment it felt like Harry would do more, perhaps rip off Draco’s shirt or maybe simply rip off his own. Draco’s blood drummed in his ears with excitement. Death and gore long forgotten in this sudden dance of heat and cool. 

But just as Draco once again parted his lips to invite an – what he presumed would be – eager tongue inside, Harry slowed his hungry movements. Slowed like he suddenly thought this idea wasn’t a good one. Draco felt annoyance and slight desperation as the vampire began to withdraw. 

“Come on,” he breathed as he grinded his weak body upwards. “Come on,” he begged as he nipped at the side of Harry’s mouth, allowing his tongue to leave long stripes of burning saliva along the lovely bows. Harry still hesitated. 

“Draco,” he said as he dodged the slytherin’s desperate motions. Leaving Draco kissing his Adam’s apple rather than his lovely mouth. “You’re not thinking clearly,” he said with something like desperation in his eyes. “You’ll hate me for it later.”

“I’ll hate you now if you don’t kiss me,” he promised as he once again saw white and red mix in a revolting shade of pink. He tried to ignore the thought of his parents melting into streams of blood as he clutched closer to Harry. The cool, too beautiful formed body of the boy he currently was head over heals for. 

“Draco,” the vampire said as he embraced the blonde. “It’ll be okay.”

Draco groaned in frustration this time, giving up his fruitless pursuit of some kind of distraction, preferably a pleasurable one. “You’re no fun,” he breathed against a cool neck. Harry simply clutched him closer, once again rubbing his hands smoothly over the expanse of Draco’s back. 

This time Draco breathed out with a small sob. He was worried… okay, and yeah his neck hurt as hell right now, but he didn’t regret kissing Harry. Maybe his reasons for doing so had been slightly dubious, but fuck slow. Really, f. u. c. k slow. After feeling that cool breath against his burning lips Draco didn’t want to wait another second. No matter what Harry thought. 

“I don’t like slow,” he said as Harry’s hands carefully examined his neck which he’d begun to scratch earlier. 

“Merlin, you have to be careful,” the vampire simply muttered, ignoring Draco’s plea in favour of rearranging his bandage. 

“Harry,” Draco persisted. “Did you hear me?” And yeah, that might have been a hint of annoyance in his voice.

The vampire sighed deeply even as he clutched the blonde closer. “It was you who said you wanted us to take it slow… We’ll talk about it in the morning.” He offered as he flattened the bandages one last time, apparently satisfied with their current state. 

“If you stay,” Draco insisted as he snuggled up to the vampire with a yawn. He had after all been interrupted in his sleep. His mind flickered to the colour pink yet again, his mother’s screams echoing inside his head. “Promise me you won’t hurt them?”

“I promise,” the vampire whispered back, immediately following Draco’s change of subject. “Promise me not to panic and claw at your neck?”

“I promise,” the blonde whispered back. “When will they attack?” Draco breathed the question, afraid of both getting an answer and not getting one.

“During the Moon’s day.”

“Monday.” Draco tried to swallow down the bile rising in the back of his throat. So soon, just the day after tomorrow. 

“It’ll be alright,” Harry promised as he undoubtedly heard Draco’s heart speed up in fear or perhaps anticipation? Draco himself couldn’t tell.

He still felt a bit prissy about Harry’s oh-so mature reaction to his albeit clumsy attempt of seduction. But he just felt too sleepy to really do anything about it; he would have to wait until tomorrow (Sunday his mind reminded with a hint of dread). If Harry even had time tomorrow, there would surely be a lot of planning regarding the MCE’s defences, or as Harry had called it “peaceful defences”. The mere words sounded slightly ridiculous to Draco’s sleep addled brain and he once again felt fear come crawling back despite being cradled by the world’s most powerful entity. 

Just before Draco gave in to sleep, Harry took hold of his hand and sank careful fangs into his wrist. The buzzing itch disappeared and Draco mumbled a thanks. Completely at ease with falling asleep while a vampire drank his blood. 

Oh world, how things had come to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/
> 
> (It’s really late at night so if this AN doesn’t make sense it’s because my brain is malfunctioning).
> 
> Yo! Not many chapters left until this story is completed x)   
> I’ll try to update Monday two weeks from now, but knowing me it’ll more likely be Wednesday two weeks from now x)
> 
> Thanks as always for all the support! It’s always lovely to hear your encouraging words and opinions in the comments. 
> 
> Stay awesome! And have a continuing great day/night ;)


	14. Terrible Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/  
> This chapter has not been Beta’d.

Surprisingly enough, Draco did not wake up alone. Unfortunately, he neither woke up with whom he’d hoped.

“Blondie wake up!” A familiar voice shouted lividly. Efficiently waking Draco from a surprisingly pleasant slumber. Making the whole _up-and-get-‘em_ all that more annoying since he’d actually slept peacefully for once.

“Nem,” he murmured as he recognized the singing tenor. He hadn’t seen the elf since before the bite despite knowing that she’d been working on a cure. “Decent folks are asleep in the crack of dawn.”

The matrass shifted as a body seemed to have climbed up onto the soft double bed. Nem was currently in his (and Harry’s?) bed. Talk about invasion of personal space. “Nem, I’m really flattered but I’m already involved with our common friend. You know elder vampire and almighty creature? Goes under the name of Harry Potter. Does it ring any bells?”

“Git,” Nem responded as she shook his shoulder rather violently for being the slender thing she was. Somehow the lack of coddling in her harsh movements was a relief despite the small ache her manhandling brought with. He rather took bits of physical pain than the “ _fragile label”_ which people seemed to see plastered over his forehead.

As Draco swallowed dryly he noticed a familiar annoyance. His throat itched once again. Too soon, Harry had fed last thing before sleep.

“Who would want to date you?” Nem continued successfully distracting Draco’s swirling thoughts. “Sure you have the veela deal going for you-”

“Am not a veela but thanks for the commendation-”

“But,” Nem continued as if Draco hadn’t spoken, “all the poshness, posturing and lets not forget biting commentary seems to be a bit of a bother.” She giggled as Draco tried to convince his eyelids to open, just for a second. But by the muggle God they were heavy.

“Shut up, you love it,” Draco murmured with a heavy voice. Actually if only Nem literarily shut up for a second he was sure he would be able to fall right back to sleep.

“Nothings hidden from you huh?” Nem’s voice had taken on a soft note. “And you’re right. Despite our last encounters where you have been leaning towards _unconsciousness_ and being preoccupied with… ah, dying. I do love your snarky ass as well as your fabulous hair. So that’s why I, the generous, genius Nemirdes, healer of the century-”

“Nemirdes who’s also rude, not that funny, delusional and a prat-” Draco murmured the words as he once again tried to plea _to_ his eyelids to do one fast push-up, he weren’t asking for ten, just the one.

“-have a _cure_ for you.”

_What_ …

Draco might have stopped breathing. Scratch that, the burning in his lungs meant that Draco definitely was drowning above water. His body was tense as a bowstring as his brain tried to grasp the words, turn them inside out and examine them. Had he heard right? He hadn’t had he? This was just his brain finally snapping under the pressure?

The hesitating hope was already growing.

He managed to force out an, “Excuse me?”

“You’re getting cured Blondie,” Nem’s voice was soft.

Suddenly his eyelids weren’t refusing to open. Suddenly he was staring up at a familiar face that smiled at him with tear-filled blue eyes.

“Really?” His voice cracked as something like doubtful relief started to grow in his chest. “For real?”

“Yes,” Nem whispered before hugging him tightly. Bending forth and simply dragging him up with a surprising strength before crushing him in a warm embrace. Draco couldn’t get any words out, much less a strait line of thoughts. His brain was floating in something like helium and his whole body felt like it had been exposed to dozens of Wingardium Leviosas.

His eyes were goddamn wet.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t have to turn?”

“Never. You’ll even be immune to the Pull. You could keep seeing Harry if you want to.”

Draco would forever deny it, but as he finally accepted that he, Draco Malfoy, wouldn’t have to turn into a creature of the night, he cried. Despite him being a Malfoy, despite him being a slytherin, Draco couldn’t hold on to the mantle of detachment he was supposed to have mastered. He just stuffed his face into the crook of Nem’s neck and bawled his eyes out.

It was like his heart had grown used to the fear and the pain that was the Pull and first now – when he knew it wouldn’t change or kill him – that he was free of the burden. And he could keep see Harry and he wouldn’t break his mother’s heart and he could finish his Hogwarts education and-

“Does Harry know?” Draco wondered through a heavy sob. Nem patted his back soothingly.

“Of course he does,” she whispered into his hair. “He’ll come to watch and hold your hand when you take the antidote,” the teasing in her voice overshadowed by something thick and vulnerable.

“He be lucky to be allowed to hold my hand,” Draco shot back, his eyes not stinging quite as much as before.

“Yeah,” Nem just breathed back as she continued to stroke his back in a calming manner, holding Draco as he cried of relief and the knowledge of many tomorrows as his unchanging self.

***

Taking the cure was a seemingly boring affair. Harry had been away on meetings, planning and Merlin knows what all morning, just as Draco had predicted. And despite Nem’s reassurance Harry wasn’t in the hospital when he and Nem arrived.

The cure looked pretty boring with its brown colour and thick floating substance, smelling faintly of mud. For a moment Draco wondered if it indeed was mud they’d simply poured into a vial.

Granger senior was in the room, holding the vial with a small smile playing on her lips. The strange sight of a content Granger was new to Draco and he couldn’t suppress an answering twitch of his own lips. Pomfrey was there as well, surprisingly enough – or perhaps not so surprisingly. She gave Draco a smile and a stern look after taking in his rugged state.

“Mr Malfoy,” she said and shook his trembling hand. “Promise me we’ll never find ourselves in this situation again.”

“I promise,” Draco had told the stern lady dressed in a white apron and maroon robes. “I’m about to get immune,” he couldn’t keep the delight from his voice.

“Well veela boy,” Nem interrupted gleefully. “You have to drink the potion first.”

“Not a veela,” Draco repeated for what felt like the hundredth of times. Nem wouldn’t stop bugging him about his resemblance to the otherworldly creature, not that the comparison was a bad per se. Sure, Draco had delicate features and a svelte body, pale hair and pale eyes. He was attractive. But just because you shared some features with the veela family didn’t mean you were connected to them. Hell, his ancestors would rather have mingled with muggles than creatures.

Nem just did a rude hand gesture. “Whatever,” she said. “Still, drink.” Nem took the cure from Granger’s hands and tossed the vial into his hands with utter carelessness. Draco fumbled for a moment with the slippery bottle.

“Can you please not be a dick,” he said as his heartbeat started to gallop. “I could have dropped that!”

“Foul words from a pureblood,” Nem held a hand over her heart as if shocked. “I’ve never!”

Granger actually laughed out loud at that. Nem shot the muggleborn witch a sharp smile.

“Very funny,” Draco mumbled sourly underneath his breath as he clutched the vial in his trembling hands.

Nem dropped the teasing act as she informed him that: “We have at least a dozen more of those. Please, I’m a professional.”

Draco seriously doubted that but he weren’t about to argue. Instead he stared at the vial and its frankly repelling look. Mud, why did it have to look like mud?

“Draco,” that was Granger stepping forth. The fuzzy haired witch patted him somewhat awkwardly on the shoulder as she gave him a strained smile. “Good luck.”

Somehow that didn’t feel very reassuring. “What do you mean good luck?” he asked as a note of panic sipped into his voice. What _did_ she mean good luck?!

“Hermione is a bit of a ‘ _dick’_ ,” Nem quickly said before Draco’s mind was overrun with possible death scenarios and horrible side effects. Her voice taking on a mocking note at the word _dick_.

“She’s not the only one,” Draco said as he glared at his saviours. Pomfrey just huffed in what might have been agreement.

Just as Draco seriously considered drinking the whole damn thing just to make Nem and Granger drop their smug faces the door to the hospital room banged open. Draco almost dropped the vial again, cursing loudly as he fumbled with the potion.

“For fucks sake-” he began as he was prepared to glare the intruder to death. So of course when he looked up to see whom the insensitive idiot was, it was Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. Actually there was Ron and Lupin as well, but Draco somehow couldn’t find it in himself to look at anyone except the dark-haired entity coming towards him.

Harry looked relieved and hopeful and exhausted and just, just… wonderful. Draco tried not to let it show just how ridiculously fond he was of the almighty ruler. Still, the giddy smile plastered on his face might have been a dead giveaway. He waved with a trembling hand, if the trembling was due to excitement or the Pull was hard to tell.

“Draco,” Harry said as his face was split into a shit-eating grin. Fangs gleaming and eyes crinkling at the edges, Draco had a hard time remembering seeing a more beautiful sight. Harry swept forward, earlier exhaustion seemingly forgotten as he crushed Draco in a tight embrace.

“Have you heard? I’ll remain mortal,” Draco whispered into the black hair suddenly filling his face.

“Somehow,” Harry whispered back, something decidedly thick filling his usually smooth voice. “Nothing have made me happier than knowing you’ll remain fragile and warm.”

“Yes,” Draco agreed his voice not cracking – **_not_** cracking at all. “How would you survive without your heat pillow?”

“You’re too angular to be a pillow.”

“You’re too rude to be a politician.”

“Posh git.”

“Thick headed jerk.”

“Can you please save foreplay to later?” Yeah, that was Ron. Draco had a sudden uncanny desire to growl at the redhead.

“Please,” that was Granger all right. “You don’t have to be rude.” For once Draco felt something like gratitude towards the fuzzy haired witch.

“Rude!?” Ron spluttered.

“Childish really,” Granger continued with dislike colouring her words. “Do you close your eyes when couples kiss in movies as well?” Yeah, that was mockery spilling out from the bookworm’s mouth. Draco wanted to laugh or say something agreeing along the lines of ‘ _so immature’_. Instead he buried himself closer to Harry, clutching the vial between their bodies and feeling close to euphoric.

“Mud,” he whispered into the entity’s hair. “This potion looks like mud.”

“Well,” Harry said as he dragged cool lips over the shell of Draco’s ear. “It’s elf-made, of course it looks like mud.”

Draco might have shivered, _might_.

“Draco,” a familiar voice, slightly exhausted but foremost kind sounded behind him. Draco detangled himself from Harry’s arms to turn around and face Lupin.

“Hi,” he said, for a moment unsure how to greet the wolf. Draco was still surrounded by Harry’s loose arms.

Lupin didn’t seem bothered that Draco hadn’t heeded his warning about continuing seeing Harry. He just smiled despite his eyes being filled with something dark, hopeless, entirely too horrible to have anything to do with Harry and Draco. Draco refused to believe that the bleakness was because of the strategy meetings about tomorrow. Harry didn’t seem to despair. He seemed happy. For Draco sure, but his eyes hadn’t hidden any clear feelings of grief.

“I’m so glad,” the wolf said, dragging a hand through his rugged hair, his hand shaking slightly. “Not just for you but for Harry.”

Draco turned to watch said Harry behind him. The vampire smiling slightly, his posture relaxed. “We can offer a cure to anyone that’s infected by the Pull. I won’t be destroying peoples life simply by existing.”

“I thought you were saving peoples life,” Draco shot back, his voice slightly teasing despite knowing the seriousness of the statement. He was happy for Harry. He could be as close to anyone as he wanted. _Anyone_.

Draco shouldn’t have been jealous at a moment like this, but he was petty and he was apparently possessive. Because he didn’t like thinking about Harry being close to anyone not him.

Somehow the potion had turned to a double-edged sword.

“Listen who-ever-the-bloody-hell-you-are. I’m one of the strategists of the MCE and you are what? A good luck mascot? Perhaps you should show a bit of respect?”

“Excuse me?” Granger’s _I-can’t-believe-he-just-said-that_ voice did not sound forgiving. “I’m one of the healers that these last months have actively tried to solve one of the most difficult curses. Why don’t you show a bit of respect?!”

Draco was somehow surprised that Ron and Granger weren’t getting along. He would have thought, since the two of them clearly don’t like him, they’d bounded over that. Apparently not.

“Listen, children,” Madame Pomfrey sounded tired. Hermione dragged her glare away from Ron with slightly blushing cheeks. Pomfrey sighed, “Mr Malfoy if you please.”

Draco nodded, the vial feeling hot in his hands. Harry kept his arms around him, supportive.

“Listen,” Nem said as she gave Draco a reassuring smile. “It will take a couple of days until the Pull disappears completely, but after that you should be fine. You will feel the itching less and less just as your strength will return to your body. Harry will have to help you through three or four more _feedings_.”

“Listen it’s not feedings,” Harry tried to protest again.

Nem ignored him. “Then it will be gone and the curse will never again manifest inside of you.”

Draco tried to smile through the nervous butterflies in his stomach. He was probably not doing a very good job. “Okay,” he confirmed because what else was he suppose to do?

“You can just drink it whenever,” Nem then said, her outer relaxed despite the slightly strained smile she kept plastered onto her face.

“Right,” Draco said as he uncorked the vial. He wouldn’t let himself have any doubts, so without further ado he swallowed it. Just raised the crystal bottle to his lips and gulped it all down in five painful swallows. It even tasted like mud.

Then it was done. Just like that.

“So,” Draco said after a heartbeat or two of silence. “I guess that’s it.”

He felt himself be pulled into a tight embrace, cool arms crushing him against a solid chest. “Good,” Harry whispered and placed a soft kiss on top of his head. “Good,” and yeah, Draco didn’t seem like the only one on the verge of tears.

He leaned back into the arms, closing his eyes. He tried to feel if the itch had weakened or if his body had grown stronger. But whatever he felt was probably more his mind than actual physical improvement.

Draco clung to Harry.

“You’ll have to rest,” Nem said softly. “And you’ll need a supervisor.”

“Harry will do it,” Lupin’s voice was firm. “We’ll manage on our own,” Lupin promised, his voice tired and weary.

“Lupin,” Harry sounded sad. “Padfoot’s fine… He will be _fine_.”

“Yeah,” Lupin’s voice was thick. Draco felt curious but also drained. He tried to concentrate on the words whispered back and forth between the two creatures but failed spectacularly. It didn’t really help his concentration that Ron and Granger were arguing in the background.

Nem told the lot of them to go back. Giving Harry clear instructions before he had to carry Draco out of the hospital room, the blonde bordering on sleeping.

Harry kissed his forehead as he carefully dropped Draco onto smooth sheets and a soft mattress. “Try to sleep,” he whispered, cool body pressing up against Draco’s own. Draco tried to respond but alas, he’d already succumbed to the exhaustion.

***

Draco’s neck was on bloody fire. He tried to supress a moan at the starling sensation that despite the knowledge of burning, his body heated in an entirely different way. Cool fingers held him still as _something_ dug deeper into the curve of his neck. Something like deadly _fangs_.

“You always did taste quite exquisite,” a familiar dark voice purred in his ear. Draco felt his knees go weak as cool lips brushed his burning neck, a tongue licking up the length of his throat. “But then again… apparently all _Malfoys_ do.”

That wasn’t right. Draco tried to break free from the tight grip that relentlessly held him prisoner. Now turning from hard to painful. Draco looked up into green eyes bleeding to red and a familiar face turning horrifying unfamiliar. Harry looked down at him with madness burning in his eyes.

“Let go,” Draco said with a trembling voice, noticing the heavy smell of blood in the air. He tried to twist in the vampire’s hold as maniac laughter escaped perfect lips and cruel fangs. The ignorance for Draco’s plea painfully obvious as the blonde kept on struggling in vain. He’d never before felt quite so helpless.

“Why?” Harry’s – but not his Harry’s – amused voice asked. “You’re gonna tell on me if I don’t? Well, it’s too late to run to mummy and daddy.”

Draco’s eyes fell onto the mess of limbs slightly right of Harry. He froze. The sight was eerily familiar, like an old nightmare as he stared at the cold corpses of his family.

Both his mother and father made beautiful dead as they lay in a pool of blood, the red liquid surrounding their bodies and drenching their features. If it weren’t for their faces, laying twisted in fear, the scene might have appeared close to peaceful in an awful, twisted sort of way.

Draco felt the bile rise in the back of his throat.

This wrong Harry stroke his back lovingly while giving him hell’s version of soothing by whispering words of “They had it coming darling,” and “They won’t disturb us anymore.”

Draco tried to fight his way out of the tender grip; his body shaking worse than it had ever done during the Pull, but to no avail. His eyes kept wandering towards the bodies in the corner, the bodies melting from white to red, his mother, his father.

There was a hole in his chest.

Harry laughed before once again giving a lick along the expanse of his throat. “Give in Malfoy,” he said with a purr. “You’re _mine_ and I don’t _share_.”

***

Draco awoke with a gasp. His body trashing and his heart racing faster than a horde of stamping stallions. If not for the arm holding him firmly pressed against a cool chest he might have fallen off the bed.

“Draco, Draco,” a familiar voice whispered with a worriedness etched into every word. Draco tried to grasp hold of dream and reality as he felt Harry – his Harry – stroke his hair from his sweaty forehead carefully.

His heart stopped racing quite so fast as he clutched the soft fabric of the bed, pressing back towards the cool of Harry, frantically trying to ground himself in reality. It didn’t work.

“Please,” Draco found himself plea – yeah, fucking plea like a peasant in front of a knight – “Don’t kill my parents.”

Harry’s ministrations halted briefly before the dark entity resumed stroking his back and hold him close. The motions were frightfully deceitful, Draco found himself thinking as he – as always – surrendered to Harry by pressing towards instead of _from,_ from the vampire. Maybe the sensible thing would have been to run away from this tangle of emotions, especially now when he would soon be free from the Pull, and so also Harry. The scary part was that deep inside he didn’t want to run. The even more frightful part was that he more likely than not would heed the wish, no matter the consequences.

If only Harry hadn’t been the saying “ _opposite attracts_ ” personified.

“Draco.” Harry just had to sound so bloody sincere all the time. Really, how was Draco not supposed to fall head over heels? “I’m not going to hurt your parents. Ever.” Draco looked up into green eyes… they were sincere.

“Okay,” he replied as he tried to forget pale limbs and unseeing eyes. A dream, he told himself again. If only his heart could listen to his mind for once.

“No, listen,” Harry sounded sad. “I know I haven’t given you much reason to trust me but we agreed didn’t we? Be completely _honest_ to one another.” He placed a soft kiss onto Draco’s forehead.

“Okay,” Draco said as he wondered if _honest_ really was the way to go. “Okay,” he repeated as if the simple word would somehow give him the courage to go on. “Okay.” Now this was just repetitive.

Harry on the other hand just held him carefully cradled with the patience of a stone statue.

“I’m trying to do this,” Draco confessed after another heartbeat of silence. Because if they were going to be anything other than a painful maybe he needed to keep to their “ _honest_ ” policy. “But this,” here he gestured towards both of them, painfully aware of their close proximity. “This…” Draco took another deep breath, his mind drawing a blank.

He tried again. “Let me say why this shouldn’t work,” Draco said as Harry gripped him tighter. As if scared that Draco would break away. Such a ridiculous thought. “You’re an Elder Vampire whom I know next to nothing about. I don’t even know how bloody old you are-”

“I’m nineteen,” Harry interrupted.

Draco halted. “I- okay,” his surprise was evident. “Well, shit,” he said as he tried to imagine the responsibility Harry carried on his shoulders while still being a teenager. Young adult… Young anyway. His mind spiralled away. “So you’re not like centuries old-”

“No,” Harry confirmed, his voice wavering. “I thought you had noticed.”

“Yeah, I guess I have,” Draco said as he thought about how Harry stumbled into what they had with the same ignorance as Draco himself. But he’d at least thought Harry to be thirty maybe? It was always hard to tell with vampires, since their looks never matched their actual age.

_Elder Vampire at the age of nineteen_. The thought was frankly horrifying. “Do many people know about your age?” Draco found himself asking while his brain was stuck imagining speeches and debates and responsibilities… That Ron had had the nerve to call out on Harry being irresponsible seemed absurd despite the redheaded wizard not appearing much older himself.

“The creatures know,” he answered. “Not the Ministry.”

Draco nodded. “Thank you for telling me,” he said honestly. Because if the Ministry found out one of the most powerful entities were a teenager… Well, let’s just say most of the ministers would be less than pleased.

“ _Honesty,_ remember,” Harry simply said as if he hadn’t given Draco classi-fucking-fied information.

“Right,” Draco breathed out. “Now, apparently, I _do_ know how old you are. And sure I know bits and pieces but there is still so many things that should make me run.”

Harry froze even though his face was blank. His green eyes not meeting Draco’s. “I don’t want you to run,” he whispered. Like admitting that was even more classified than admitting rebellion secrets.

“You must realise that if I should have ran it would have been when you abandoned me.”

Harry’s blank mask slipped, leaving sight for something Draco only could describe as raw pain. “I never abandoned you.”

Draco didn’t want to fight. It felt like their whole relationship was based on arguments and unrelenting attraction. Still, those words were lies, not honesty. “Please,” he sneered, pushing himself away from Harry, his dream once again making an unwelcome appearance in his thoughts _. You’re mine_ , Harry had actually said that.

Harry allowed him to go without fight. Draco pushed himself away, making a gap appear between their bodies in the bed. For once the blonde felt relief instead of longing when parted with Harry’s cool skin – well, almost _no_ longing.

“Listen,” Draco said. “It’s weird because when you left me- And yes you did.” Harry looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Left me after that night…” it wasn’t his fault that his voice grew thick and ended in a vicious crack.

The only consolation he had was that Harry looked equally pained. “Draco,” he whispered and tried to drag the blonde back towards his chest. Draco, for once, resisted.

“Please Harry,” he said as he kept his distance. It was so deceitfully easy to forget it all when engulfed in endless coolness. “Why? Just… I know I told you to go away after… after… but I didn’t actually think you would…”

The raven-haired 19-year-old just sighed deeply. Perhaps it was Draco’s imagination but he would have liked to believe there was regret shining in the depth of those oh-so green eyes. “It wasn’t easy, because I wasn’t suppose to get bloody addicted to you, not only a student but a Malfoy.”

Draco listened carefully. Quiet. It was almost ridiculous how much he wanted to hear Harry’s reasons. And if his heart had beaten harder at the word _addicted_ Harry wouldn’t- Well… perhaps Harry would know – the Elder Vampire was bound to probably feel his heart vibrate with every pound… shit.

However it was, the vampire was gracious enough not to show he’d noticed Draco’s rebellious heart go against its master’s wishes as he continued. Harry’s voice still a bit too small and a bit too fragile. “And I tried to tell you. But I guess my words meant little to nothing since my ‘ _we shouldn’t do this’_ was followed up by tackling you against the wall and-”

“-kissing me senseless,” Draco finished, somehow warmed by the memory... correction memories. Those surprisingly soft lips were suddenly tempting in the darkness of this strange bedroom. And yeah, those thoughts that had kept him away from Harry’s body was already beginning to make way for other thoughts, more pleasurable ones… Like how he could snuggle up against that broad chest and strong arms. How Harry could press soothing kisses alongside his jaw. How they could meet in that wonderful mix of heat and cold, creating thunder and-

Draco forced his thoughts to end there. _Slow_ was the keyword. Despite it being an awful word perhaps it was nonetheless needed right now. They had fallen into one another faster than their minds had been able to handle it, and look at the mess it had made. Draco wanted this desperately. He could only pray Harry felt an ounce of that desperation.

“Yeah,” Harry said after a heartbeat. His breath coming out uneven, as if the thought had made even him lose focus for a moment. “Exactly. And honestly Draco there is something about you. Different. And not only because you’re an emotional rollercoaster-”

“Excuse me,” Draco couldn’t help sounding offended. “These last couple of months haven’t been exactly normal. That I’ve even been able to cope as well as I have with the Pull-”

“I know,” Harry interrupted, once again reaching for him. Coaxing him, like Draco was a cat. The weak manipulation attempt really shouldn’t be as adorable as it was. “And I’m not blaming you… I’ve,” Harry paused, unsure. “I’ve very much been a bit of a wreck myself.”

“Understandable,” Draco amended without missing a beat. His mind supplying images of the MCE and Fenrir and being almighty and in love with him... Dealing with Draco and causing a student, the condition to why they’d been allowed here, harm. Draco was once again glad he hadn’t told Dumbledore to force the MCE out of here. Because then where would he be?

_Dead_ , his mind supplied. And yeah, it was always that. Draco felt a lightness in his very soul as he remembered that the Pull was in fact soon to be gone.

“Maybe it’s understandable but it’s not okay,” Harry murmured.

Draco allowed his body to be pulled against Harry, too weak to resist the temptation. Plus, Harry sounded so tired and so remorseful that Draco didn’t have the heart to refuse him. Harry let out a content sigh as the blonde once again settled at his side, their bodies fitting together like a pale puzzle in the darkness.

“If they know how young you are surely they can’t expect you to lead without errors.”

“They don’t, because I’ve screwed up more times than imaginable. But as the Elder Vampire I have a certain amount of-”

“Respect?”

“-fear,” Harry sounded bitter, “directed at me. I could make the Ministry listen, so I did. I could assemble magical creatures from different cultures and beliefs underneath one banner, so I did. I was the only one who could do a number of things; all because of this power I’ve gained. How is that fair?”

“At least you’re doing something.”

“Yes, but don’t you see? I’m nineteen, I’m not mature enough to lead thousands of people or negotiate with century old wizards or change the world. Hell, we’re suppose to be a peaceful rebellion and still we’ve managed to kill people, occupy a school and had psychopaths like Greyback-”

“Nobody has said that changing the world was easy,” Draco cut off. “It’s not how many times you fall, but how many times you get up again.”

“I’m scared Draco,” Harry confessed. “Tomorrow might as well end in bloodshed for our part.”

“What do you mean?” The sudden fear that seized Draco had nothing to do with his parents and suddenly all to do with Harry.

“We’re not fighting,” Harry’s voice was for once void of emotions, his green eyes closed in the night. “The MCE will not fight tomorrow.”

“That’s insane,” Draco close to snarled. “You have to protect yourself.”

“There’s no way to change the world with violence,” Harry sounded awfully sure for someone who’d both killed and maimed people right in front of Draco. “Perhaps it’s time to act like it.”

“Harry,” so what if Draco sounded slightly desperate.

“Ron has said from the beginning that I should stay away from you,” Harry continued. Draco felt the surprise of the subject change silence his arguments to just why Harry was a mad, mad, madman. “Lupin did as well, and Draco,” Harry pressed a soft kiss to the top of Draco’s head. “There are things I want to tell you, desperately. But please let this war pass and we can truly sit down and talk. I swear to you we’ll do that.”

“Harry,” Draco simply said again, for once at loss of what else to say.

“Despite the hell we’ve gone through I’ve only wanted you more. If you never want to see me after all this is over so be it.”

Draco watched Harry as this silly idiot tried to be self-sacrificing. His hands were firm where they rested on Draco’s body but there was a tremble in his voice that gave it all away.

“But please,” Harry continued his eyes flickering away from Draco’s. The green hidden beneath pale eyelids and raven hair. “I want you to if not forgive at least understand.”

Draco slapped Harry rather hard on his unfairly wonderful head.

Harry looked up, his eyes a bit wide and yeah – Draco couldn’t supress a smile – that was irritation in the depths of those green eyes.

“Draco,” he said with narrowed eyes. “What the heck was that for?”

The blonde merely shrugged a smirk playing on his lips. “You were wallowing in self-pity. What’s that all about? Begging my forgiveness?”

“What!? I thought you would be delighted that I actually begged you.”

“Listen you’re letting everything eat you up,” Draco said firmly. “Don’t do that.”

Harry stared at him, his expression once again turning to one of exhaustion. “I’m trying to do right. Isn’t that the least I can do? I always destroy things… I nearly destroyed you.”

“Listen,” Draco said, slightly surprised to find himself in a position to deny these words he himself had agreed with wholeheartedly weeks ago. “I’m already feeling better, I think. You took responsibility for the mistakes you caused so that, in my mind makes us even.”

Harry just snorted. “Yeah? So as long as I stitch you up after torture I’m free to carve to my heart’s content?”

Draco sighed, annoyed. “Sure I’ve been mauled once or twice-”

Harry just raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe more twice than once. But listen, just take my forgiveness or whatever you want to call it and focus on what you can change instead of what’s unchangeable. There’s little to no reason to dwell in the past.”

“How else are we supposed to learn from our mistakes?” Harry just shot back, his mouth curving itself into a small smile.

Draco shook his head. “I’m not really in the mood for a philosophical discussion.”

The vampire just breathed out in the darkness, “Shame.”

There was a quiet that settled over both of them and the room. And somehow Draco felt like it settled over the entire world. Like they might be floating among the stars while waiting for the dawn and the horrors that was surely to come.

Draco felt perfectly content allowing his mind to twist and turn while resting against Harry. He knew there was more to be discussed but right now he was just ridiculously happy that Harry wanted to tell him about his past, no matter how painful it seemed to be. Draco wanted to know. He desperately wanted to know.

That Ron and Lupin and who know whom else had told Harry to stay far away from Draco was expected. The vampire had repeatedly said so himself in the beginning. So was it after that night in the hospital and the horrible morning after that Harry had heeded their warnings? Or was it after Draco had screamed at him to stay away?

Ginny, Ron’s sister had something to do with this. Harry had himself said to learn from past mistakes and perhaps he’d tried to put whatever he’d had with Draco in the same box as what he’d had with this Ginny.

He wondered what had happened with Ginny? What had happened between both of them and what the horrible result had been of their failed relationship? Perhaps she was dead? But then again… Why would Ron be supporting Harry if the vampire’s involvement with his sister had lead to her death?

It was only the promise of Harry telling him after tomorrow that kept him from asking.

_Tomorrow_ …

“Are you really going to do nothing tomorrow?” Draco asked into the quiet.

“We are. If they attack us and we remain passive they won’t be able to proclaim us dangerous or that we need to remain under control.”

“They might also fucking slaughter you.” Draco wasn’t even pretending to be calm.

“Sacrifices must be made,” Harry just shot back, like he’d said the same words over and over a thousand times before.

Draco pressed closer to Harry, heaving his upper body onto Harry’s broad chest. He peered down at the entity. “I don’t want you to die.”

Something went soft along the edges of Harry’s eyes. His expression changing to something warm, despite his cool skin. “I won’t die,” he promised. Just as he’d promised so much else this evening.

Draco didn’t answer. Didn’t call Harry out on his bullshit promise. Instead he forced a kiss onto those pale lips. Harry let out a surprised sound as Draco’s tongue swept over his lower lip in an all but coy manner.

Just as Harry began to push back Draco withdrew, he was a bastard like that. “After tomorrow,” he said with a wink. Like Harry needed any motivation to survive tomorrow.

Harry stared up at him, black taking over the green in his eyes. He looked positively hungry, dangerous and beautiful, all at once. Draco felt a shiver run down his spine as Harry seemed to forcefully have to restrain himself from reaching for Draco.

Then Harry blinked and that dangerous edge disappeared, leaving just Harry in its wake. Draco didn’t know if what he felt was relief or disappointment. _Relief_ , he tried to tell his brain, definitely relief.

“Tell me,” Draco said as he slid back to rest alongside Harry, plastering himself against the vampire’s side. “About your family.”

Harry blinked confused. “Family?”

“A good memory,” Draco continued. “Something that made you happy?” Draco tried to tell himself that Harry still didn’t need reasons to survive the morning, and yet he couldn’t help but try to enforce those reasons the vampire were sure to have.

“My family… situation,” Harry began hesitant. “Was a bit different than most.”

“You don’t need to tell me about it all,” Draco said because _different_ did in this case sound like bad and Draco didn’t want Harry to think about bad. “Just tell me something happy.”

Harry took a deep breath before letting it out in what sounded like a whisper of _pushy git_ , before starting to tell tales about a clearly non-vampire Harry and mud and tree climbing and having a big black dog. Draco listened to the soft sound of Harry’s thoughts pouring out of his mouth. It was oddly calming.

So calming that Draco didn’t even notice that he’d started to drift away after the tale about Harry’s first go at flying a broom. But Harry sounded happy as he clutched Draco closer to him and whispered about wind and freedom. So perhaps it was okay for Draco to drift away once again, just this time without the fear of his parents facing certain death in the morning.

***

It was quite extraordinary, Draco thought as he stared out over the students milling about. The MCE was more out in the corridor than usual, centaurs walking slowly alongside the walls and nymphs smiling strained towards the students that had surely become their friends by now.

Speaking of the student body, they all appeared quite unhappy as well. The usual loud Gryffindors were quite for once, whispering furiously amongst themselves while the Hufflepuffs looked ready to burst down and cry and the Ravenclaws just walked around solemnly, their hands suspiciously empty of books. The only house that seemed fairly normal were the Slytherins, all of them staring at the other houses while giving away nothing with their carefully blank faces and even voices.

Draco was out walking the corridors – despite orders – and for once he didn’t feel like ripping his throat out because of some awful itch. This morning he’d felt it again a bit – but Nem had said that was to be expected – so Harry had helped him out. Taken a few mouthfuls and then stared at Draco long and hard. The Slytherin had allowed himself to be pulled close to the entity and kissed an inch from his life against the soft bed, Harry’s mouth tasting like blood and heaven combined.

Then they’d stared into each other’s eyes again like in some dumb love novel. But Harry’s eyes were just so damn green so how the heck was Draco supposed to resist admiring the emerald orbs?

Then Harry had been gone with the whispered words _‘ve you’_ hanging in the air. And Draco had been frustrated because Harry might have said _I love you_ and Draco had responded with silence during the few seconds it took for the entity to leave the room.

“Draco?”

Draco turned towards the familiar voice. “Pansy,” he said with a genuine smile. “Ready to actually make peace?”

The petite girl just marched up towards him, her steps radiating annoyance but her eyes were all softness. “Draco,” she said again her voice wavering. “You look,” she paused before approaching him. “Actually not like a walking dead.”

He smiled at her, “You could have taken a last look before I moved away.”

“How could I,” she swallowed. “You never listen and, and…” She breathed out into the air filled with echoes of hundreds of students walking down the corridor. “You had been _just_ gone for two weeks…”

“Eleven days,” Draco corrected.

“About two weeks… Then suddenly you’re supposed to move away from us, disappear.”

“You could have visited.”

Pansy just shrugged her tiny shoulders. “I was angry, perhaps I shouldn’t have been but I was.” There was something decidedly wet hiding in the depths of her eyes, Draco spared her the embarrassment by saying nothing. “I’m sorry,” the apologise was small but sincere.

“Hey,” Draco covered the distance between them and engulfed her in a hug. Pansy fell into his arms, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. “I get it, I would have been pissed if you or Blaise kept disappearing and ending up more and more hurt each time.”

Pansy nodded against his bandaged throat. “Potter fixed you?”

“Him and so many else.”

She grunted in response, apparently satisfied with the answer, or perhaps just satisfied with him being in lack of a better term _okay_.

“What’s the buzz around?” Draco wondered. He knew, objectively, that this very day was due to become horrible but he’d imagined that would be kept inside the MCE. Or at least not shared to the students. Apparently he was wrong, if it weren’t some else big event happening this very day.

“Don’t you know?” Pansy asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“Yeah I do. But how do you all?”

“Dumbledore told us to remain inside, preferably in our dorms or return to those areas if something ‘ _alarming’_ was about to happen. Didn’t take a Ravenclaw to figure out the MCE is about to be in trouble.”

“Still, everyone is outside of the safety areas…” Draco didn’t try to hide his surprise.

“Yeah,” Pansy whispered, her breath caressing his ear. “They’re talking about standing at the MCE’s side against whomever will try to harm them.”

“What?!” Draco felt something closer to shock than surprise wash over him. “They don’t even know who might be coming.”

“The Ministry most likely, or the wizard opposition that attacked them after the Diagon Ally incident.”

“Not the Ministry,” Draco muttered. Pansy perked up.

“The opposition then.”

“Yes.”

Pansy withdrew slightly from his arms. “You’ll stand with them then?”

“I don’t know.” Draco felt something like coldness along his spine as he tried to imagine his father and mother’s faces as he appeared alongside Harry on the battlefield. “They won’t use violence. Harry said they would remain passive.”

“Harry?” Pansy sounded suspicious.

Draco felt his cheeks colour as he noticed his slip up. “Ehm, Potter.”

Pansy just gave him a long, long look. Draco refused to meet her inquiring eyes. “We will talk about this later,” she promised in a dangerous voice.

Draco could only nod.

“Anyway,” Pansy dropped the sharp edge to her voice as she gestured towards the milling students. “The Gryffindors will more likely than not join them, the Hufflepuffs as well. We’re not sure how the Ravenclaws will choose and the Slytherins will not stand by the MCE.”

The knowledge did nothing to settle Draco’s mind. Hermione would stand by the MCE, Dana would stand by their side. And Draco, Draco who had told Harry not to dare die, would he help or stand to the side?

There wasn’t really much of a choice. No matter his father and mother… Not when he somehow could help Harry, Nem, Remus and all else to survive their madness of a plan.

“I have to help them,” Draco told her in no uncertain terms.

That Pansy didn’t look surprised were more telling than anything really.

***

As the man fell down into the ground with his throat torn open Draco couldn’t help but feel like something had gone terribly wrong.

Mr Riddle stood above the fallen man with a mad grin in place as he stared at Harry with a clear ‘ _come on’_ in his gleaming eyes. A woman beside him – Bellatrix Lestrange – laughed and laughed and laughed. Some of the students breathed in harshly in the cold air. The sun was setting, the red light making the red blood covering the ground so much more evident. The world was vibrating.

Draco tore his eyes from the dying man and stared at Harry. Only… It wasn’t Harry who’d stood calmly awaiting the opposition with a worried face, not anymore. Instead he saw a sinister shadow loom in Harry’s place, deadly fangs visible as something like thunder shook the world.

Lestrange only laughed louder.

There was something like a choked off wail beside Draco. He could see in the corner of his eye how Lupin fell to the ground in shaking sobs, the werewolf whispering furiously underneath his breath as he clawed at the ground.

Draco didn’t understand it. Not one bit. Sirius Black was known for supporting Mr Riddle, fighting against creature rights. Why would his death make Harry, Lupin, the rebels anything but happy?

Unless… and now Draco felt himself be filled with a horrid knowledge. Unless the man was a mole. That letter, which had been signed S… The understanding was as cold as the sudden drop in temperature.

Mr Riddles knowing eyes, Mr Black choking at his feet, red blood pouring out of his mouth as he tried to breathe… in vain. Harry’s lethal step forward, Lestrange laughing louder.

It was a trap. Draco began to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/   
> Plz don’t be too mad and I’ll post next chapter ASAP!
> 
> Have a continuing great night/day!


	15. Where is Harry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/This chapter has not been Beta’d.

Draco had done a lot of things in his life he hadn’t properly considered before doing them. One of them had been falling for Harry; another one had been to mock a Hippogriff and now this. He tried to clear his throat discreetly.

Almost all Slytherin students was gathered in their common room, Blaise and Pansy had helped him to spread the word quick and efficient. Now Draco just needed to convince the lot. How he was supposed to do that on the other hand, may be trickier than simply saying “Let’s give our parents the biggest Fuck You in history?” Especially since many Slytherins (himself included) was all about family honour and values. He would need to tackle this differently.

“Everyone who didn’t decline is here,” Blaise whispered. His body pressing against Draco’s side quite intimately, not that Draco had any time to consider what it might mean. “What are you going to say?”

“Something that probably will make me an outcast at best. You’ll stay with me?”

“Always,” Blaise whispered, his hand squeezing Draco’s shoulder for a moment before he stepped back. Draco looked out over the students mumbling among themselves. He was standing on a homemade stage they’d built together by placing a couple of tables in a row, Pansy stood to his right and Blaise to his left. This would have to do.

“Good morning!” Draco shouted over the whispering students, his voice carrying louder with the help of magic. “Thank you all for coming.”

The Slytherins in front of him stopped their worried murmuring and focused on him. Even Draco could see that most of the eyes turned in his direction carried great mistrust, not really surprising considered the reputation of his involvement with Potter.

“So I guess that some of you suspects the reason why I’ve asked all of you to hear me out today.” Draco paced a bit back and forth on the stage, his nerves making an unpleasant appearance. He just wanted to get this right, this could potentially fix everything. “I’m here to talk about Dumbledore’s warning and the MCE.”

“Are the Ministry coming?” A first-year Slytherin spoke up from the front of the crowd. “Is it going to be a battle?”

Draco nodded towards the kid, valid questions indeed. “No and maybe. Mr Riddle and his people are anticipated to come today without the knowledge of the Ministry.”

There was murmuring after that statement. Draco raised his hand and the room turned quiet again. He paced back and forth some more.

“Now I presume a lot, if not all, of you know Mr Riddle and like me myself have parents that works with or for him.”

There was lots of nodding.

“So then you know that Mr Riddle do not agree with Mr Potter’s opinions about equal rights between creatures and wizards.”

“No why should he? Why should anyone want equality?” A voice full of mocking broke out from the crowd. “They’re lower beings, freaks. It’s a wonder nobody have died since they occupied the place.”

“Yes,” Draco grasped the lifeline. “Nobody has died,” he looked out over the room. All Slytherins looked carefully blank or annoyed. “So maybe they aren’t as bad as we thought? As our parents thought?”

Protest and murmurs, just what he’d presumed. He allowed the people a moment before clearing his throat again, dispatching the noise somewhat. “Hear me out!” He said raising his hands. “Haven’t you seen another side of creatures these last months? You’ve talked to them, played with them? How can you still simply put them into a category of lower beings if you’ve had discussions and conversations with them? Have they seemed stupid to you? Have they behaved like animals?”

The noise in the room turned quiet.

“They’re hiding their true nature,” someone spoke up, hate filling her voice. “Obviously a ploy until they’re in a position to show their true colours. They are vicious, part human, part animal!”

More protests were heard. Shouting. People was spewing about how Potter wanted to rule the planet, how they’d perhaps not been harmed by the creatures during their stay at Hogwarts but earlier? Before the MCE? Kids were yelling about grandparents that had died, drained by vampires. Someone had lost a sibling, a mother, to a werewolf. The protests were endless.

Draco just felt helpless, but he had to try. If not for the MCE, then for Harry.

“We can’t judge all creatures on the acts of one mad werewolf or vampire!” He shouted, the room not listening. Draco dragged a hand over his face, gesturing towards Blaise to help him. Blaise whispered something underneath his breath and waved his wand. There was a bang, overpowering all voices and making everyone quiet down once again.

“Thank you Blaise,” Draco simply said, nodding curtly to his friend before turning to his audience. “As I said, we can’t judge a all creatures on the acts of one mad individual. The ones gathered here in the castle, the MCE, they want peace. They want to be recognised by the law and not through fighting. And they have negotiated, they have talked to the Ministry, they have not tried to make that change by acts of violence.”

“So what?” Another hostile voice spoke up. “You want us to hold hands with the MCE in front of our parents?”

Actually, that was almost exactly what Draco wanted. With less handholding and more united front to minimalize bloodshed.

“Because if that’s the case,” the same voice continued. “You can crawl back to Potter and tell him that’s not going to happen!”

An agreeing murmur was heard from lots of the students but there was some that remain quiet, thinking. At least Draco’s words weren’t completely ineffective.

“Other students will do it!” He continued to preach, hoping to reach out to the uncertain. “I will do it.”

“Of course you will,” a girl was shouting from the sea of Slytherins, Draco couldn’t quite spot her in the crowd. “But then again aren’t you Potter’s whore?”

Draco clenched his hands hard as he heard students agree loudly. He would not flip; he would not destroy what little doubt he’d managed to create in some of the Slytherins’ minds. Still, something was turning in his stomach as a first-year stared at him with disgust.

“Shut the fuck up,” Blaise boomed behind him, taking a step forth. “You have no idea what you’re talking about you sorry piece of-”

“Blaise,” Draco forced himself to lay a firm hand on Blaise’s shoulder. It wouldn’t do to act out of anger. _Keep calm, keep calm, keep calm_ -

“Does your parents know you get on your knees for a vampire?!”

Okay Draco had had enough. He whipped around from where he was turned towards Blaise. Stepping forth to the edge of the primitive stage.

“Listen here,” he said with an ugly smile plastered onto his face. “The MCE will get their act through, and Riddle,” he spat out the name. “And everyone following him will get throw into prison for attacking peaceful creatures.”

The room was silent.

“Your parents will get their fucking soul sucked out and you all will be left with a heritance that will befall your next of kin because you aren’t of age. But!” he threw out his arms as rage poured out of his mouth in form of poisonous words. “Maybe if you stop your parents from committing this felony, maybe you’ll grow up with the family jewellery intact and with a mother and father. But then again…” Draco drawled. “I’m just Potter’s whore, but at least I am smart enough to give it up for the most powerful entity on this planet. Yes,” Draco breathed out in the eerily silence. “I’ve seen the Elder Vampire’s powers and lets just say that our magic has nothing… _nothing_ against that.”

Draco stepped back from the edge of the stage. “I will be protected when creature’s get the same right as us because I fought by their side. Whatever my parents have done I’m protected, I’ll probably be able to protect my parents as well.” Draco turned around to walk off the stage. “Choose whatever you want, but it’s your families survival that’s on the line, not just your sorry excuse of an opinion.”

Draco walked out of the room without anybody trying to stop him. He walked up all the way to the dorms, slammed the door shut and fell into his bed with a groan.

_That could have gone better._

 

***

 

“You’re together with Potter?” The voice awoke Draco from where he appeared to have fallen asleep. He yawned and stretched, his back popping as he distantly wondered what time it was. Riddle, his parents and the rest might appear whenever.

Blaise was sitting at the edge of his bed, his olive skin glistering in the faint dungeon light. He looked worried and tired.

“Maybe,” Draco said because he didn’t know. Not really.

“What does that even mean?” Blaise was avoiding his eyes, his gaze directed towards the stone floor, while his shoulders were tense. Draco didn’t like the hurt tone in his voice. Nor did he like the lack of Pansy. This just didn’t bode well.

“Blaise,” he said as he tried to remember a time, except that one time, when Blaise had expressed any other intention towards him than friendship. “What does it matter what I have with Harry.”

“So it’s Harry,” Blaise spat out the words, his fists shaking where they lay twisted in his lap.

Draco felt himself wake up fast as he tried to handle this with care. “Yes,” he answered after a second or two. “I’m Draco to him and he’s Harry to me.”

“So what,” Blaise accused. “You really are Potter’s _whore_?”

Draco flinched. Blaise eyes snapped to him, suddenly regretful.

“I didn’t mean-”

“Well fuck you too,” Draco hissed as he rolled off the bed. “Really Blaise it feels good to know I hold such a high esteem in your eyes. Now if you don’t mind I’m off to suck some dick for money since that’s all I’m seemingly good for.”

“Draco, please I didn’t mean to say it like that!”

“Nah that’s right, it’s just Harry’s dick I’m suppose to suck right?!” Draco was trembling of anger. How dared Blaise?! How fucking dared he?! Draco had thought they were friends!

“Draco I’m sorry!” Blaise was scrambling off Draco’s bed to follow him out the dorm. Draco tried to get his jumbled thoughts straight, tried not to feel his heart bleed of the hurt of having one of his closest friends condemn him with such sincerity… Just like the rest of his house.

Draco would not start crying, he’d done that enough. He would not start crying. He would just not! He was a Slytherin, if he didn’t want to start crying he freaking wouldn’t.

“Draco,” Blaise was gripping his arm as Draco’s march was halted in the stair leading to the common room and the dorm. Draco tried to jerk his arm out of Blaise’s grip but damn it he held on.

“What do you want,” Draco hissed as he tried to tear away from the close to hurtfully tight grip. “Haven’t you done enough?! Or do you want to make another judgement about my preferences?! About my choices?”

“No,” Blaise said with a squeak, his eyes wide and afraid. “I love you,” was the next thing he vomited out with a trembling voice.

Draco paused. Looked at Blaise who stared at him with fear and hurt and… Draco couldn’t deal with this right now. He just _couldn’t_ … The MCE was facing Riddle today, his parents would be there and everything might come crumbling down. And this was the time for Blaise to throw his undying love in Draco’s face?! Moments after calling him a whore?!

“Fuck you,” he hissed and managed to jerk out of the grip Blaise had on his arm. He stormed down the stairs, this time Blaise didn’t follow.

 

***

 

It wasn’t like Draco hadn’t been called a whore or other degrading things before, he had and usually he didn’t care. But Blaise had never been one of those people who’d ever said anything really harmful. Sure, the guy had mumbled idiot once or twice, but it was always with a fond expression and soft eyes. Never like this.

Draco hid out in the library at Dana and his table with an excellent view of the courtyard. There were some other students in the library but not many and none of them seemed very keen on studying. It was peaceful and if only Draco had been in possession of a glass of fire whisky maybe things would have been as good as they could be.

He hadn’t counted on Dana showing up.

“Guess who,” someone mumbled and covered his eyes with tiny palms.

Draco felt a reluctant smile tug at his lips. “Sounds like Harry,” he teased.

Dana let out a gasp and pinched his nose. “Shut up idiot,” she mumbled fondly, her megawatt smile appearing in view. “What are you doing here,” she asked with a raised eyebrow, “Aren’t you suppose to rest?”

Technically he was supposed to ‘ _rest’_ , but big chance of that happening when Harry was out there making history. Draco knew where he would be standing when the battle drew close, right by Harry.

“Maybe,” he shrugged as the tiny Hermione version jumped up on a chair oppose him, putting her chin in the cradle of her hands.

“Hm…” she just muttered, not bothering with chiding him for being out and about. “You’re going to be on the front line?”

“Yes,” Draco answered as he saw students and creatures milling about outside.

“Harry’s frontline?”

“Which else?”

Danna shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, I don’t know? Your parents?”

Draco smiled wistfully. “Nah, I’m still a teenager, I need to rebel.”

The fuzzy-haired girl snickered. “With the rebellion?”

Draco couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, “Yeah, exactly.”

They fell into a comfortable silence once again, both of them staring out the window at the people down on the courtyard. Draco tried to tell himself that things would work out. It had worked out with the Pull. Now he only felt a small itch and his body felt stronger for the first time in months. So there was nothing saying that the MCE’s plan wouldn’t work out as well.

Even if the plan was basically a no-plan.

“Are you going to stand by the MCE?” Draco asked because Dana was a kid and she shouldn’t be even close to a confrontation between creatures and their foes. Strange, Draco found himself pondering, that he now considered Mr Riddle the foe and the creatures his friends.

“Nobody can stop me,” Dana just shrugged. Draco didn’t know if he should smile or cry at her confidence. But Mr Riddle was only after the creatures; surely the kids must be safe?

“You better be careful,” was all Draco said, despite wanting to say so much, much, more.

Dana only snorted. “You too.”

He nodded, confident that Hermione if nobody else would keep her out of trouble. Now… all there was left to do was wait.

 

***

 

So the battle had happened quite suddenly. Or the battle call had happened quite suddenly at least. Because there was a voice in the corridor telling all kids to return to a safety area but really only made the student body hurry outside for the showdown. Draco and Dana were running down the stairs when Pansy and Blaise joined in.

“So it’s happening,” Pansy huffed with a smile. “Finally some action after an absolutely dreadfully boring occupation.”

Dana snickered.

“I’m sorry,” Blaise managed to get out as he fell into Draco’s pace by his side. “I know you’re mad, you have every right to be but just for the fight, let me stand by your side?”

Draco wasn’t heartless, but his insides were still raw from earlier with his failure of speech and then Blaise’s fucking attack. Hadn’t he suffered enough under his self-judgmental mind?

But… he weren’t heartless.

“You can join,” he allowed as they rounded another corner in a quick pace. Student’s milling around them, all heading in the same direction. “But don’t mistake this for forgiveness.”

“I won’t,” Blaise breathed out. “Thank you.”

Draco only nodded curtly. He would have to deal with this mess later, right now his head was busy chanting Harry, Harry, Harry.

“There they are!” Someone to their right shouted and sure as hell, as they all ran out onto the yard MCE was walking out towards the forbidden forest to face the opposition. There were a lot of students walking with them. A lot of the students were Slytherins.

“What-” Draco muttered as he saw some of his housemates give him a nod in recognition.

“Guess that rant worked out better than you’d hoped,” Pansy smiled next to him. “Move those long legs hon, we’re running out of time.”

Draco could only nod as Pansy, Blaise and Dana were dragging him towards a familiar weary figure.

“Mr Lupin,” Dana hollered. “You going to join the MCE fighting baddies?” Right… nobody knew that Lupin actually was a werewolf. Draco tried to make a convincing surprised face at seeing his professor there.

Lupin on the other hand just smiled while giving Draco a brief glare. “Aren’t you suppose to be resting Draco?” he asked with a tired sigh. The man looked like he hadn’t slept for days.

“Nah, can’t miss all the action,” Draco aimed for a happy tone but probably missed by a mile.

Still, it made Lupin attempt to smile, which was something. “One day you’ll learn to appreciate the calm days,” was what the werewolf offered as they fell into step beside him.

“When you are old?” Dana wondered in her cheeky way and Dana was much better in getting Lupin to smile because the wolf’s eyes crinkled at its edges as he stared at the small first-year.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Whey you are old.”

 

***

 

So everything had been sort of going okay. Draco had spotted Harry taking his stand in front of a surprisingly large number of creatures. Just how many had hid in that east wing? And the vampires were not even out and about with the sun still lingering.

Harry didn’t seem very happy at the moment, he stood beside a troubled Dumbledore and gestured repeatedly towards the students milling among the creatures. Dumbledore just shook his head solemnly, probably telling Harry about how he and the teachers couldn’t force the children not to be here.

Draco suspected that the headmaster hoped that all students would prevent Mr Riddle from making this scene a bloodbath. It was a smart plan, not very Dumbledore-ish considering that the students might possible be put in harms way. But, Draco thought, it wasn’t like the teachers could lock in the students. Not against their will anyway. He’d actually started to see their hopeless situation a bit brighter. Surely, with eleven-year-olds here and all, nobody would be mad enough to actually start offing creatures or wizards. Surely…

And then Mr Riddle showed up.

And all went to shit.

Because Harry’s informant had just been brutally murdered in front of them and Draco didn’t really think eleven-year-olds should have to see someone die before their very eyes. He also knew that this informant hadn’t just been a random nobody. Not if Lupin’s actual howl of sorrow or Harry’s furious step forward was anything to go by.

The only problem was the pleased smirk Mr Riddle had on his face. Like he’d just won one thousand galleons instead of an angry Elder Vampire heading his way. Harry’s rage made the air literarily vibrate. This wasn’t a peaceful show-off anymore. Hadn’t been since the maniac smiling in front of him had basically executed another wizard. The Ministry would hear about this, what was Riddle thinking?!

But all Draco could think about was Harry’s black eyes, deadlier than ever before and Riddle watching the entity knowingly. This wasn’t good, Harry was playing straight into Riddle’s hands.

And Draco would have to save the day, he didn’t know how but he would have to.

“Harry!” Draco screamed as he forced his way past a couple of Ravenclaws and a nymph, breaking the eerie quiet with his holler. “Harry!”

“ _Draco_!” “ _Draco, for fuck’s sake!” “Can you not!”_

There was voices screaming his name behind him, but he just kept on pushing and then he was out! Out running between the two armies or whatever you could call them.

He saw his mother and father stand to the right of Riddle and that crazy lady and Draco was suddenly all too aware that right now he was probably breaking his parents hearts.

But he needed to get to Harry; he would have to deal with betrayal and abandonment later.

“Listen goddamn you!” He screamed as he used the new strength in his body to push himself forward faster. Harry seemed lost to the world as he neared Riddle with frightening speed, Draco wouldn’t get to him in time, it was impossible.

The crazy lady crackled, the mad sound sending chills up and down Draco’s spine. “Thought he had a clever head…” she screamed with delight, pointing at the bloody remains of Black. “…now clever boy is dead!”

Harry charged and Riddle looked pleased, he was handed something by the crazy lady, and was that a SWORD? Draco hurried, knowing people were chasing him as the constant “ _Draco_ ” kept ringing out closer and closer. He just needed to get to Harry.

Harry seemed to have spotted the sword and dived back the last second, but someone was casting a spell behind his back and Harry had to turn and suddenly it was lights everywhere! Curses, spells and Merlin knows what flew through the air, forcing Draco to dodge and jump while keep sprinting towards Harry.

He was almost there.

Things seemed to have turned to shite so fast, how had it happened?

Draco evaded a red beam he saw flying towards his face, _almost there_.

And then Draco was in close to Harry as the idiot avoided another spell because Merlin forbid that he should defend himself with a comeback instead of dodging impassively. “What are you doing you idiot!” Draco shouted and Harry turned around and spotted him. His completely black eyes turning a familiar green for a moment and then there was a panicked dread in his face.

“What the fuck are _you_ doing here!?” He shouted and took a step towards Draco while deflecting the magic thrown at him. Perhaps Harry didn’t need the MCE, he seemed almost able to take on the whole opposition by himself.

And the thought almost made Draco smile for a second but then he saw that damn sword again. Riddle was wielding it and if felt like the world stopped spinning for a second. A long second that never seemed to end.

Now, during this long second where Harry was unaware of the 50-inch sword sailing through the air to nail his back, Draco realised two things:

_One_ was that he’d been prepared to die for months.

_Two_ was that he didn’t want Harry to be sliced in two.

The rest kind of happened naturally.

As he took the last step towards Harry in the lightshow of spells, casually stepping past the vampire and taking a stand behind his unprotected back, the sword travelled those last inches. Then he felt something impale him in the middle of his chest, pushing him backwards with a vicious force.

He was pretty certain he heard his mother cry out.

Then he was staring up into the sky, the pink sky, while some spells were swishing over his head and a big _fucking_ sword was sticking up from his chest. The sight was unreal and he was about to die wasn’t he?

Draco tried to grasp the damn monstrosity of a sword, his fingers slipping on the slick blade. He just needed to get it out of his chest, but there was an ache in his very bones every time he managed to jerk it. His hand fell back into soft grass as he coughed up some blood.

“DRACO!” Harry was suddenly there, looming over him with panic etched into his handsome face and Draco felt giddy. He tried to say something but then he was coughing up more red and that wasn’t good. This wasn’t good.

Harry just stared at him with his green eyes big and vulnerable, like he tried to grasp a concept too big to handle. Like he was falling towards his death but hadn’t realised it until just now. Harry’s hands had shook before, but never this badly.

Draco whined pathetically.

“No no no no no no no! Draco, Dragon,” the familiarity of the voice made his insides curl. His mother was there, falling to her knees beside him with a pale face and tears pouring down her cheeks. She looked flawless as always even with the black robe and hood obscuring her features.

“Mother,” he managed to whisper through all that liquid coming up through his throat. “Don’t fight.”

“Shhhh,” she just whispered, her hands trembling as she stroke his cheeks tenderly. “We’re going to fix you Dragon, just don’t move okay?”

He tried to nod but there was something like a numbness taking over his body, it made everything fuzzy and heavy.

“Isn’t somebody a healer?!” His mother screamed with anger and panic in her voice despite her soft hands that stroke his forehead carefully and lovingly. “Can’t somebody do something!?”

“Move,” a familiar voice said harshly and there was Nem. “Draco are you with me?” Nem wondered, her crystal eyes firm in this wobbly world around them. Nem’s eyes swept over the blade. “Harry?”

There was a harsh thug in his chest and the blade was gone. Fuck it hurt. Draco began to scream and trash.

“Dragon, Dragon,” his mother wailed as she held his shoulders against the ground, Nem holding his chest. There was almost like a blood fountain where the sword had been, Draco tried not to slip into the darkness that flickered across his vision field.

Nem put a hand on his mangled chest, whispering words that had her eyes glowing. Her hands were red and there were drops of Draco’s blood clinging to her sharp cheekbones and chin. Fountain indeed.

“Mother,” he whispered as he felt himself dying. It was a familiar feeling; he’d felt it the last months. “I’m sorry,” he begged because he’d chosen Harry in the end.

“Shhhh,” his mother only whispered again. “You have nothing to apologise for, you’re so brave.”

“I love you,” Draco whispered as his insides screamed. Whatever Nem was doing hurt badly, so badly.

“I love you too Dragon,” his mother whispered. “You make me so proud every day. So don’t dare fall asleep on me.” Her hands trembled against Draco’s forehead and her eyes were filled of unshed tears.

“Harry?” Draco then whispered because if this was it, at least he wanted the vampire know he didn’t blame him. That actually, he loved him.

Harry was immediately by his side. His green eyes filled with tears and love and guilt… and Draco couldn’t take it.

“One last kiss?” he managed to get out as his chest was cramping and the numbness only grew.

“You’re not going to die Draco, I promised didn’t I?” Harry’s voice was thick, cracking in places and Harry’s eyes were so open, so sad. Draco didn’t want Harry to think back on him and cry after he was gone. He didn’t want to be another Ginny.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered despite that every word made his insides burn. He needed to say this, it weren’t a lot of people who got to leave last words, and he wouldn’t waste his chance. “At least I got to die for someone I love.”

Harry just shook his head, his eyes flickering from Draco’s face to Nem’s where she was still muttering healing words. “Nem?!” His voice sounded panicked.

Draco felt his mother kiss his forehead softly.

“I’m trying, I’m trying,” Nem cursed as sweat began to gather at her temples. “There was something on that sword, some kind of potion. It’s rejecting my magic.”

“It’s Morietur in Aeternum.” Suddenly Draco’s father was there, his eyes wide and fearful. “There’s no antidote. But it isn’t supposed to… This is not how it was supposed to work!” Draco watched as his father brought shaking hands to his face, like he already was preparing to mourn.

“NO!” Draco saw his mother cry. “There must be something Lucius!”

“It was made to repell magic,” his father shook his head. “There’s no cure!”

“Bite him Harry,” Nem was suddenly ordering the Elder Vampire in a harsh voice. “Don’t ask because I don’t know but if we don’t do something he’s going to die.” The elves’ eyes were determinate despite the way her hands shook against his chest, still trying to keep Draco from bleeding out on the grass.

“I- I-” Harry hesitated, his eyes flickering over Draco’s slashed up form. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he whispered brokenly.

“Please,” suddenly his mother was pleading and if Draco hadn’t been busy bleeding out he might have reacted at the submissive tone. “If it might save him.”

“Narcissa,” his father sounded hurt.

“No,” his mother snarled. “I’m not letting him die. Please,” she turned to Harry again. “Please save my son.”

“Harry,” Draco coughed out as air seemed to escape him. He couldn’t really get his lungs to work, the numb feeling taking over his body. He smiled towards Harry, the vampire appearing so small and afraid as he leaned over Draco.

“I love you,” he whispered as tender hands pulled away the bandage from his throat. “I won’t let you die.”

As Harry’s fangs sank into Draco’s neck he felt his eyes flutter shut. His whole body was numb and even though Harry was right there, his hands smoothing over his ashen cheeks Draco couldn’t feel it at all. It was scary. Was he dying? Still, the darkness was too sweet to resist. Too lulling not to fall into.

So Draco took one last breath, trying to memorize the sweet feeling of air filling his lungs and the phantom feeling of warmth from Harry’s lips, before succumbing to the heavy darkness.

Thinking that he hadn’t after all gotten one last kiss.

 

***

 

The first thing Draco saw as he woke up was a needle in his arm. He stared at the slim steel piece with big eyes, watching it actually penetrate his pale skin and rest just underneath, it’s shape visible by a slight swell in shape of the thing. He felt an uncanny urge to tear it out.

He followed the needle from where it lay nestled partially in his body; funny shaped muggle plastic was attached to it and bandages were keeping the damn thing stuck. The plastic, which the needle was attached to, seemed to be a red cable shaped affair. Draco had no idea what was going on.

He followed the red cable with his gaze as he tried to remember what had happened? The cable was dangling between the hospital bed and a table beside him, a table which contained blood bags...

Draco cursed himself as he remembered muggle studies from his first year, a mandatory subject at Hogwarts. They’d gone through medical terms and one had been about how muggles had to transfer blood between one another instead of drinking a blood-replenishing potion. Transferring using plastic blood bags. It had seemed so unnecessary complicated and painful.

Blaise, Pansy and Draco had muttered ‘idiot muggles’ throughout the lesson despite the hurt looks from the muggle born kids. But that had been when he was still a brat. Which he was less of now, usually.

Now, question was why Draco was given, or maybe giving, blood? What had happened?

He tried to change position in the bed, his head turning from the red cable, blood ugh, to stare over towards the other hospital beds. This wasn’t the west wing, this wasn’t Hogwarts. Draco stared out over the place with a dread filling his stomach, why was he at St Mugo’s Hospital?

He was beginning to move, beginning to sit up as something of a painful shudder ran through him. It felt like he’d been kicked in his chest by at least five thestrals. It wasn’t a good feeling. He fell back into the bed with a quiet whine, his throat raw and his muscles cramping. Merlin, his body felt a mess. He hadn’t felt this bad since the Pull…

The Pull.

Harry.

_Harry_?

Draco felt himself fall apart at the seams as he remembered the pathetic excuse of a battle. How he’d charged after Harry like a mad maniac or maybe just an in love fool and gotten himself killed.

Just… he wasn’t dead. Thank Merlin _he wasn’t dead_.

Draco felt something in his chest tighten as he took deep, grateful breaths of air. He had miraculously survived despite being impaled by a freaking sword drenched in poisonous goo.

Draco’s breaths turned laboured.

_He wasn’t dead_!

And then sobs of relief made an appearance and his hands did this shaking thing they seemed to have done so much of of late. His body was acing as he sobbed out to heart content with big pathetic whines emerging every now and then but frankly, he couldn’t be arsed to care.

_He wasn’t dead_! Halle-fucking-lujah!

But where was Harry?

Because he’d just died for Harry, or almost died for the raven-haired wonder and why wasn’t he here? Why wasn’t he here to smile a big loopy smile when Draco woke up and then proceed to kiss him silly while mumbling that he loved him? Why weren’t there enchanting green eyes watching him right now? Where was Harry?

As if someone had heard his thoughts a healer walked in, clad in a lime green robe and a wand in hand. Her brown hair was tied in a messy bun and her honey-brown eyes found his immediately. She stilled in her march.

“You’ve woken up?” She asked in an astonished voice. Her mouth was forming a small ‘o’ as she stood frozen on the spot, like moving might make him disappear. “Oh Merlin,” her mouth was now reshaping itself into a smile.

Draco tried to say something but his mouth was dry and his throat closed up so in the end he just started coughing. Fuck, his ribs felt like they were cracking. He felt more tears run down his cheeks as he tried to get his throat to stop hurting him.

The nurse closed in on him, her eyebrows furrowed in worry as she pressed cool hands on his forehead while murmuring nonsense. Draco didn’t get why she couldn’t just fix his cough with a spell?

“Take it easy,” she whispered, “I’m just going to send for Nemirdes okay?”

Draco tried to nod through the pain that was positively making his eyesight go fuzzy around the edges. Nem was here, that was good… Right?

The nurse did a swoop with her wand, muttering something underneath her breath before turning to Draco again, breathing with him in an attempt to make his harsh breaths calmer. It kind of worked.

Draco had just managed to get his coughing under control and his breathing relaxed once again as a familiar face walked in through the door with worried crystal eyes. Correction, there was three familiar faces walking in. Because that was his mother and father walking in behind Nem.

He felt himself blush as he tried to hide the tears on his face, of course his mother and father would be there to witness him breaking down.

“Dragon,” his mother whispered as she hugged him tight, muttering words of relief as she began to cry. Draco dropped the act where he tried to wipe away any traces of tears and joined her in the sob feast, aching chest be damned.

His father just stood to the side, his hand stroking over Draco’s head in a loving manner while looking at Draco with visible relief. Draco was too busy clinging to his mother to say anything about the oddly soft gesture.

“It will be alright son,” his father whispered.

Nem sent Draco a shy smile as she walked around the bed to check on the blood bag by Draco’s bedside. She gave his shoulder a firm squeeze and Draco nodded towards her gratefully.

After a while of simply clinging to his mother Draco withdrew from her embrace with a last smile. His eyes turned towards Nem who still stood hovering beside his bed.

“Thank you,” he managed to get out, his voice full of a thickness not only caused by basically bawling his eyes out. It was apparent he’d been under the weather for a while. “I was just wondering,” he tried to avoid looking at his mother and father as he asked Nem, “Where is Harry?”

 

***

 

Fuck Harry. No really, fuck him.

Draco was left alone, stranded in a bed in the manor doing less than nothing as he healed. The damn blood bag was a foul reminder of everything he’d lost and it would never, ever leave his side.

He had a childish wish to just trash his neat room but he couldn’t even do that anymore could he? He’d never felt so helpless, but then again he’d never been so magic-less. Nem had said that it was just in the beginning, just until he’d healed before they would try exposing him to spells, potions, but right now he was not to be touched by what he’d presumed would never be taken away. His magic.

It was a bit like loosing a limb. Draco’s wand had been removed and he would have to heal the muggle way, from time and relaxation.

Shame about the fucking blood bag though. Because somehow in some fucked up way, Draco had not become a vampire when bitten by Harry. He’d not died despite the fountain of blood pouring out of him during what newspaper called The Hogwarts Standoff. He’d neither died during the weeks he laid in the hospital despite his open chest wound gushing out blood for a week before it closed. On the other hand after it had closed, Draco had been close to death.

Nem had told him about how his body rejected any form of magical treatment, and how they hadn’t known if he would survive, believed he would die really, as his body kept emptying his blood out. But he hadn’t died.

Blood gushing out his wounds constantly for a week and he hadn’t died.

The problem was that Draco had been exposed to the antidote to the Pull, which in time should have made him resistance to vampire bites. He’d been freaking stabbed with Morietur in Aeternum, a potion that created magical resistance. He’d also, as a cherry on top, been bitten by Harry, the elder vampire and the almightiest creature walking this earth. So something, when altering these three components, had created a surprising result.

Very surprising.

“You see,” Nem had said back at the hospital. “The whole thing is a bit strange… Morietur in Aeternum is only supposed to block magic for creatures, but somehow it worked on you as well. Perhaps it’s some kind of side effect from the remains of the Pull but still… Something just doesn’t feel right.” She’d hummed while playing nervously with the papers in her hands. “We’ll keep looking into it.”

Then Nem had taken a deep breath as her eyes had lingered on Draco’s upper body. “In the hospital, even though we couldn’t heal you, your body never bled out. It was just,” she’d shook her head. “It was like your body created new blood in a frightening speed. But we didn’t know what was going on, still don’t really know.” Here she’d avoided looking at him as she’d told him the next step in his recovery.

And what a next step it had been.

Apparently, Draco’s body didn’t stop producing blood _after_ his wounds had healed, his wounds that was now a big ugly scar on his chest. Instead he’d almost exploded after a day without his body gushing out blood. He didn’t like to linger on the thought of him almost exploding in a splatter of red. Sweet Merlin.

Nem had in a fit of panic sliced up his chest again, making blood pour out with such intensity that they’d soon understood he needed to be emptied of blood every twelve hour or so.

And so the patient had become the blood bag.

Draco really wanted to punch something, preferably Harry. Because really, fuck Harry. And fuck Black. And fuck Lupin and, and…

Draco felt his breath leave him as he stared out through the window, the sun setting, marking yet another day since he’d seen Harry, since he’d kissed those cool lips. Since he’d childishly promised to climb all over the entity if he made it through The Hogwarts Standoff alive. Well they had. Both of them. Actually all of them.

He’d read the news paper, seen how Black had shaken hand with minister Fudge while signing the papers declaring wizards and creatures basically equal in all of Great Britain. Hooray… Or something.

_Or something_ …

Black did well as the new leader of MCE, as the new Elder Vampire. Lupin had seemed happy for real where he’d stood in the background in that one article in the Daily Prophet. All was very joyful…

Except that Harry was gone, and nobody knew where. Nobody even knew if he was alive after he’d done some voodoo-shit and brought Black back by giving him the Elder Vampire powers. What had even happened to Harry? Was he human again? Was he an ordinary vampire?

But right, nobody knew. Except that Nem had avoided his eyes when he’d asked and bitten her lower lip like she was dying to tell him but had made a promise to not. Nem knew and it hurt more than anything that she’d not trusted him with the truth.

She hadn’t bothered with a lie per se, just a petty excuse; “It’s better if you don’t know.”

Who the fuck was she to make that decision for him?! But rather who was Harry to make her promise not to tell, because whole disappearance act stank of Harry. It was just like him to yet again try to make the decisions for Draco.

They’d promise to be honest! Harry had promised not to keep him out of the loop as he’d done so many times during the occupation. Draco boiled on the inside.

He was better off without Harry; he’d sworn to himself that if the raven-haired entity had the stomach to break any of the ground rules they’d made up together that night in bed, he would be done. So this was him being done. After taking a sword for him! After almost dying twice… thrice or wait was it four… Whatever! Harry wasn’t worth it and Draco was done!

Sometimes at night Draco felt a strange fear that maybe Harry was done with him as well. Perhaps it really had been a delusion that Draco was anything more to Harry than a guilt trip. He hated that he cared. But even more, he hated that he still loved. That his heart kept on fluttering in hope.

The blonde tapped the almost full blood bag beside his bed. His blood just kept on pouring. What was he suppose to do with it? Really?

If Harry had been here he would have flung it at the vampire like a water balloon and watched with satisfaction as the entity would have stood there, drenched in Draco’s blood. He’d probably screamed something pathetic like: “This is your fault for making my heart bleed you cunt!”

But at least his mother and father hadn’t shut him out. Actually it had been the opposite.

He still felt bad for thinking his own parents would abandon him, especially after seeing the damage it had done to them almost watching him die. He couldn’t take out his anger on them. Wouldn’t.

Because this was Harry’s fault so he would be mad at Harry. Harry his ex-something. If the damn entity even dared show his face Draco would not fold, he would punch him and scream and throw blood bags in his direction… Or maybe just cry and beg the vampire to take him back.

If Harry still was a vampire that is…

Draco felt hurt in his chest, and not from his still healing wound.

Fuck Harry, really fuck him.

And yet… please, _please_ come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN/   
> Hello, now there’s only like two chapters left! Unfortunately, school have started for me, but I will try to finish the last chapters during the coming month anyhow. 
> 
> I will probably say this in every author note until the end, but I would still like to thank everybody who have joined me on this journey, this is the first time I’ve written something this huge and if it weren’t for your kind comments and appreciation I would surely not have made it this far. Love to you all :)
> 
> Have a continuing great night/day!


	16. Blood Bag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has not been Beta’d.

It didn’t make sense for Draco to be nervous. Not when he’d done this thousands of times before… hell, maybe even millions.

“I’ve done this millions of times before,” he complained to Blaise in a rushed whisper. “Why am I still so bloody nervous.”

Blaise only gave him a raised eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say millions…”

“Fine! Thousands then.”

“Rather fifty if we’re being picky.”

“Which we aren’t,” Draco sneered back at his old friend.

Blaise tried to hide a smile behind straight lips. “No,” he conceded. “I guess we aren’t.”

Draco watched the people assemble, his already foul mood growing fouler as someone stumble over his feet with a grunt “Bloody hell.”

Draco’s left eye twitched as he had the uncanny desire to take one of the two full blood bags in his pocket and throw them at the klutz-wizard. He’d done it before, as water balloons went, one filled with blood was rather effective. Sure, there had been hell for Blaise and Granger to “clean up” with the press and their reputation but it had been worth it. Well… kind of.

“Can you be a bit more careful?” Draco asked with a dangerous smile as the klutz-wizard was close to tangle with the plastic tube going from the half full blood bag currently resting in Draco’s coat pocket to his wrist. The klutz-wizard just grunted at Draco before untangling himself with a jolt from the long tube. Draco’s wrist ached from where the needle was currently sticking into his skin, draining him slowly but surely.

“Is that blood?” The klutz-wizard asked in surprise. His round face changing from irritated to puzzled as he watched the redness inside the tube. “Wait…” the wizard looked closer at Draco with furrowed brows. “Draco Malfoy?”

Draco sighed; it was too damn early to be recognized as the blood-sprouting creature lover he was.

“In the flesh,” he admitted, more than aware of Blaise tensing beside him, ready to leap to his defence.

The man just shook his head at Blaise’s uneasy posture and raised his hands in the universal sign of “ _I want no trouble_.” Blaise relaxed slightly.

“I mean no disrespect Mr Malfoy,” the man said, his hands steady as he lowered them to rest at his sides. “Just wanted to say thank you I suppose.”

Draco raised one of his perfectly trimmed eyebrows. He’d heard many things from strangers, mostly things about him being a shame for his family or a traitor, but sometimes people thanked him. Usually with small gestures ranging from nods to smiles but every now and then someone would actually shake his hand with glistering eyes.

“My daughter,” the man said, his eyes flickering towards the floor at the mention of his kid. “She was accidently bitten by a werewolf earlier this year and I…” Here he paused. “It makes a difference you know,” the man said after a heartbeat of silence. “That someone like you, with your background takes this stance. It really does.”

Draco couldn’t help but allow a small smile to break through. “Well then,” he said, earlier annoyance gone with the wind. “I’m happy to here it.”

The man barked out a short laugh. “There’s always Malfoy this Malfoy that according to her.” The man gave Draco a grateful smile. “She really looks up to you. Wouldn’t know where I would have been if she hadn’t been able to return to school, to her friends.”

“The MCE has done wonders so far,” Draco said, the words flowing out easy despite the stab of ache in his chest. He’d said the rebellion’s name so many times that whatever lingering pain it causes him should have disappeared by now.

_Should have_.

“Yes they have,” the man agreed, his round face thoughtful as he gazed around the packed area. It was an especially packed event Draco had to admit. Maybe that was what had caused these nerves to emerge in the first place.

Blaise tensed once more as a group of slightly menacing-looking wizards passed them by. Draco prayed that they wouldn’t cause any ruckus during the actual speech.

“But,” the man continued, stealing back Draco’s attention. “Rules don’t take away stigma. That you’ve done all on your own.”

Draco felt his cheeks heat. This father sure knew how to talk. Maybe Draco could convince him to hold the speech instead?

“I’m happy to hear it, even though I can’t take all the credit. Don’t know if I’d be here if not for the PCR society.”

The father-klutz-wizard nodded gravely and gave Draco another smile. “Right,” he then said and there was a tint of red to his cheeks. “Anyway, my daughter admires you very much… and… ah… she’d asked me to… ehhh… well…”

“No problem,” Draco said as Blaise indicated the spell to transfigure a paper and pen out of a few coins. “What is her name?”

“Laura Hale.”

Draco smiled as he carefully wrote down a greeting for Laura. Wishing her many mild moons to come before signing with his full name.

He gave the note to Laura’s father.

“Thank you,” the man beamed.

Draco simply nodded as the man turned and disappeared into the ever-moving crowd, moving ineloquently through the masses of people. Klutz indeed.

Blaise was smiling knowingly at Draco as he once again relaxed into his seat, eyes moving lazily over the crowd around them. “That was nice,” he deadpanned.

Draco simply sighed deeply. “You mean that was a nice change of pace from the usual death threats?”

Blaise smile was an enigma all on its own. “Something like that.”

***

Draco went up on the stage, gazing out over the hundreds of wizards gathered here today with firm eyes. It did not do to show weakness in front of a – partly – hateful crowd.

“Good day,” Draco said, his voice echoing over the room with the help of Blaise’s spell. “Thank you all for coming here today.”

The crowd was silent except from a low murmur. If Draco hadn’t done this – fifty times? Yeah Blaise had said fifty times – before, he might have paid attention to his hammering heart and clammy hands. Instead he pulled through, like a stubborn dementor facing down thousands of patronuses.

“I know most of you have more likely than not already heard of me and what I’ve been through. But, I would still like to take this opportunity to tell you about it in my own words.”

Draco felt Blaise shift behind him, ready as always to leap into action despite several aurors standing guard by the stage.

“One year ago I was stabbed by a sword straight clean through my chest. I should have bled out on the ground the night of the Hogwarts Standoff but I didn’t. Now, this is the part the newspapers usually gets wrong,” Draco said and sent the quiet crowd a small smirk.

“They say I survived thanks to my ancestors being of creature heritance. To be more precise, _veela_ heritance.”

Even to this day Draco would never forget Nem’s pleased squeal as she’d had her teasing actually confirmed. Draco did have part veela in his blood, a very small part sure, but there none the less.

“That’s not the whole story,” Draco continued. “The whole story would take hours for me to tell. The whole story would involve a bite from the previous Elder Vampire, it would involve what has of late have become the Lamia Gravitas, which in short is the Elder’s natural aura, more commonly known as the Pull, and it would also involve the potion Lamia Castitate.

“Now, before I start explaining exactly how the occupation went down and what happened during the Standoff I’m going to talk about something else. Something that has everything to do with the new laws in place, the equality act and our continuing way of life.”

The crowd was starting to murmur again. Draco noticed the aurors gripping their wands. He was not that worried though. Most here wouldn’t like what he had to say. Most here only attended due to the agreement. But then again, follow to Draco turning minds had made threats lessen in numbers but increasing in intensity.

“As it has been proven, by what happen to me but also through potion tests, most, if not all, noble families possesses creature blood.”

And then there was shouting from all over the room. The crowd before him started protesting, some even snuck hands into their pockets, as if ready to draw their wands. It had faced Draco the first time it had happened. It didn’t anymore.

“And yeah, it doesn’t do to protest. This has been proven,” his voice was hard, unforgivable. This was a fact and it wouldn’t do not to deal. He needed to make people see that. “I would have died if not for my veela inheritance,” he continues despite the protests still going strong. “So it’s there, undeniable it’s there. And it’s our _obligation_ to deal with it.”

One of the auror’s sent out a red orb of light, the small ball releasing a vibrating sound. The crowd went quiet, reluctantly.

“Now…” Draco relishes a few heartbeats of silence, dragging forth words he himself had been inspired by so long ago. “Now let’s talk about this out-dated notion that creatures are below us. For example you wouldn’t judge a person who comes from India, right?”

***

“ _Namaste_ Draco.”

“Seriously, fuck you Blaise,” Draco sneered before taking another sip of his firewhisky.

Blaise sat down beside him, the almost empty room a blessing for Draco’s pounding headache. The crowd had been a fucking nightmare. With some luck he wouldn’t need to hold these fucking speeches for much longer. With some luck he would be able to start educating himself as something boring and ordinary. If he didn’t have an exciting day left in life it would still be too much.

He took another sip, enjoying the fire crackling in front of him.

“I just can’t help it,” Blaise snickered as he took a sip from his own whiskey. “India? Every time? You’re going to give that country bad associations.”

Draco rolled his eyes, too tired to really manage to retort to the taunt in a deserving manner. “Oh excuse me. Is it you that hold speeches in front of hateful crowds? Is it you who get howlers and curses sent in your mail daily? Oh wait, no it isn’t, you’re just a damn bodyguard.”

Blaise blew out his breath, a small giggle mixed somewhere in the tired exhale. “Well, maybe you could switch up the speech a little?”

“Or maybe I could not.”

“Hey,” Blaise patted Draco’s head like one would an aggressive cat. “You did well. The crowd got calmer, people went from there rethinking their stances.”

Draco nodded, eyes staring into the golden flames of the fire. He was just so bloody tired.

“We should talk to Hermione,” he said, the name slipping out easily. “She will want to hear how today worked out.”

Blaise nodded solemnly. “She will,” he agreed.

Draco settled with that, still staring into the fire. He felt exhausted and hungry and a bit bloated. Fuck.

“Blaise,” he huffed out with a frown. “I need another bag.”

Blaise sighed as well. “And I was just getting cosy and all.”

“Blaise, now.”

His dark-haired friend got up from the couch reluctantly, muttering about “posh bastards” and “think he can order me around.” Draco smiled a little, content with Blaise’s displeasure.

He closed his eyes, hearing Blaise step away from the room to go fetch three new bags from Draco’s suitcase. His headache was receding, good. Draco allowed a blissful silence to enter his mind. He tried not to think about when he was to hold his next speech. He also refused to allow his mind pounder the PCR and absolutely not the MCE. Yes, absolutely not the MCE.

He only thought such painful thoughts in the middle of the night when the temptation and darkness made his will weaken.

It had been a year after all. A year since he’d woken up attached to a tube draining his blood. A bloody year without magic. At least he could still make potions, not that that made him feel better or anything. Absolutely didn’t to be honest. It was a joke compared to everything he had been able to do.

In a way it was funny. Him, one of the most talked about people in the wizard society was a squib. Or sort of squib. Take that fucked up world, he couldn’t help but think.

Ugh… but squibs really? It seemed he’d hanged out too much with Hermione after all. Was that her next cause? Squibs? And he wasn’t that on that level of no-magic yet surely…?

“Here found it!” Blaise interrupted Draco’s downward spiral of thoughts. Thoughts he’d tried to avoid, but alas. Not even after an exhausting speech and floo travel could he be given a break from himself.

Blaise threw some plastic bags at Draco. He took them with a sigh.

“I still don’t understand what was wrong with the bottomless bags. At least then I didn’t have to change them every bloody day.”

“You know it’s kind of funny that you still say ‘ _bloody’_.”

“Shut it arsehole.”

Blaise simply shook his head solemnly, not bothering to hide that damn smirk he always wore whenever he teased Draco.

“And you know why we don’t have the bottomless bags,” he continued effortlessly while drinking some more from his glass.

Draco fumed silently, wondering where his relaxation was after such a rough day. He had deserved some relaxation had he not??

“It’s not my fault the bag fell out of my pocket.”

Blaise simply shook his head. “Draco you spilled out a week of blood. There were children present. Screaming children.”

“Ugh… fine,” Draco sipped some more on his whiskey. Maybe if he got drunk enough he might pass out next week and then maybe he would get some bloody shuteye- _damn_ shuteye. Fuck.

The fire flared up all of a sudden.

“Hermione?” Blaise asked lazily as they watched the golden flames turn green.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. “Mm… probably. Maybe Pans as well?”

“Nah, think she was going to have some meeting with the ministry.”

“Oh well,” Draco took another sip while watching the flames partway slowly but surely.

Hermione stepped out of the fire, looking as frizzy haired as ever.

She had a smile on her face. “Boys!” she exclaimed in an annoying tone. Merlin, she’d spent way too much time with Pansy. Hermione Granger one year ago would never have called Draco and Blaise ‘boys’. Maybe snakes… voiced in a very distasteful manner of course.

“If it isn’t the founding mother herself,” Draco drawled as he greeted Hermione by lifting his glass.

“ _Namaste_ Draco,” was all Hermione said with a fucking awful grin on her face.

Blaise immediately started barking out a disgusting laughter, high fiving the newly arrived witch while once again pledging his loyalty to her and all her causes. Hermione looked a bit too pleased for Draco not to sulk.

“Yeah. Haha. Fuck you both. How about I don’t hold speeches and people can go back to bullying creature’s all over Britain.”

Hermione gave him an apologetic look that didn’t seem all that apologetic really.

“Sorry Draco,” she offered. Then she beamed at them both. “Actually I have great news.”

Draco was immediately suspicious. “What news?”

“We’re going on a tour.”

And no.

Fuck no.

Draco knew bloody- damn, DAMN, well what she was speaking about and he wasn’t bloody- FUCKING doing it. Sure, maybe creature equality had begun to spread over Europe and America after this “revolution” in Britain. And sure, maybe Draco speaking had something to do with it. But he wasn’t bloody- FUCKING going to travel around speaking in other countries. Fuck, he would be hated all over. His mail was going to create _wizard wars_.

“No,” Draco pointed a stern finger at Hermione to show that he was fucking serious. “No,” he pointed thereafter at Blaise, repeating his answer “No.”

“Draco, you don’t have to decide now. But please… just think about it,” Hermione still sounded elated, like Draco’s _no_ hadn’t registered.

“I have thought about it,” Draco replied stubbornly, taking a big mouthful of his whisky – Merlin knew he needed it. “I am _not_ doing it.”

Hermione took a step towards the couch, her eyes softening a bit and her expression of joy toning down. She sat down beside him so that Blaise framed him on one side and she on the other.

“I am not doing it. It’s been… it’s been a damn nightmare here in Britain. And the world,” he couldn’t help but swallow. People would want to behead him surely. “It’s not going to work. I- I’ve already spent a year on this.”

“And see how much good it has done,” Hermione said and Draco knew what she was about to do. Knew she was about to start talking about all the creature-children who could attend school without being bullied. Would talk about the creatures hanging around Diagon Alley because nowadays they weren’t denied entrance. She would talk about the increase of magic use, the improvement of St Mungo’s, the deepening understanding of Astronomy and Transfiguration and Divination and all that fucking jazz!

And Draco got it! He did! But did he really have to be a _bloody_ martyr for harmony to happen?!

_Damn_ martyr! Not bloody, but a DAMN martyr! He wasn’t saying bloody anymore goddamn it!

Fuck.

“Okay,” he interrupted her before she could begin to list what they’d manage to achieve in only a year. “You don’t have to tell me all the great things the speeches have made possible. I’m fully aware.”

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, almost as if she wanted to say it anyway. But thankfully decided against.

“Then you realise what you could do?” she tried to grab hold of his hand, Draco jerked it away with a grunt.

“If you’re talking about me realising I could become the most hated wizard on the planet… then yes.”

Hermione shook her head. “Blaise help me.”

“Oh you’re on your own here.”

Hermione sighed deeply. “Equality Draco. Equality over the whole wide world. Do you realise the lives we could save? The souls? The minds?”

Draco was too tired to have this conversation. “I know it all,” he answered because he did. Better than anyone it felt like at times. He did get a lot of hate in the mail, but he also got a lot of love, got lots of life stories spilled out in a shaky handwriting, he got a lot of gratitude. And Draco wouldn’t hesitate to go out in the world if he didn’t know how bad things sometimes got. His ever-occurring nightmares, the constant mentioning of MCE, the longing that still refused to let go despite the year that had passed.

Sometimes Draco drank too much firewhiskey. Sometimes he didn’t sleep for days. Sometimes he would just start crying and not stop for hours.

Draco knew of his limitations. Had learned to live with them this past year. He was saying no to the world tour for a goddamn reason.

“Please,” Hermione said again. Her voice serious instead of elated, her usual smooth tenor trembling slightly. She really wanted him to say yes.

Draco didn’t know what to say. “Hermione,” he dragged a slightly shaky hand through his hair. “I’m tired.”

“I know,” her demeanour was oddly muted. “We’ll take it easy and do less speeches. We’ll weave a better Fidelius charm.”

Draco nodded distractedly.

“So you think about it?” Hermione could as usual not keep her pleading under wraps. Draco was sure that if he only turned his head to the right he would see large brown eyes, begging him to agree.

He didn’t turn right. But he did agree with a tired. “I guess.”

There was a warm hand on his shoulder. “Thank you Draco,” Hermione sounded sad. “I know this is… hard, with you being a front figure and all. But we couldn’t have done it without you.”

Draco didn’t really want gratitude. This whole PCR or Promotion of Creature Rights had been Hermione’s idea from the beginning. Draco had then just recovered and had pleaded to join her by sharing his story and perspective with wizard Britain. Well… he had got his whish. But to what price?

“You’ve already talked to the MCE I suppose?”

Hermione blushed prettily beside him. “Well, I told Ron about my idea. He was going to tell Sirius.”

“Ah,” Blaise said to the left of Draco. “The boyfriend.”

Hermione only blushed harder, a pout making an appearance in her face.

Draco smirked. “The redheaded weasel, really Hermione, haven’t you dumped his sorry arse yet? You can do better.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but there was a fond smile tugging at her lips anyway. Draco was watching it, could see the warmth in her eyes as she ruffled his hair.

“Careful with that,” he scolded her, a smile breaking out on his face as well.

She huffed. “Boys,” she complained in a distinct Pansy manner.

***

Draco always knew that some day Potter would return. He knew in his very constantly exchanging blood that Potter hadn’t died that day even if he’d somehow transferred his powers to Sirius. Nem had known Potter had been alive, knew it still probably. Not that he’d talked to her since the Manor.

But he knew that Potter someday would seek him out.

Or so he _thought_ he knew, at night, in his bed, with only a starry sky outside his window. Then, with only the sound of silence and sight of darkness, did he allow his heart to long.

The whole thing was quite a mess because Draco had recovered… outwardly at least. He had grown confident and stronger since the whole occupation mess, since the whole being helplessly in love mess.

He had even been on a date with a perfectly nice girl; only problem had been that the date ended swiftly after he’d had a panic attack in the restaurant’s bathroom. Breath wheezing as he’d tried to supress the gut wrecking feeling of wrong.

He hadn’t attempted anything close to romance after that. Maybe he never would. It was impractical and a very Hufflepuff thing to do, stay true to his first love. But maybe Draco did have certain Hufflepuff tendencies? Or maybe he just needed closure?

So that was why, in the middle of the night, he sometimes imagined Potter appearing in his room. The vampire’s tall frame intimidating as well as protecting, his hair falling like shadow and his eyes gleaming as green as always. He imagined that Potter would have an absolutely perfect excuse to why he’d been absent and then they would laugh at one of Potter’s stupid puns and Draco would get to hold that stupidly handsome face in his hands. Potter would then tell Draco everything he wanted to know about Potter’s past, all about the Ginny-girl, Black, Lupin and the weasel. He would then say _Draco Malfoy_. And Draco would ask _what_? And then Potter would say. _That’s whom I love. Draco Malfoy_.

And all that was bullshit.

It was a dream fit for a six-year-old girl who’d watch too many movies about that Disney person Hermione sometimes muttered about. And Draco realised, when the break of dawn happened and he’d lain sleepless yet another night, that if Potter ever cared to seek him out, it would be for closure.

The knowledge hurt. But he’d tried to learn to accept it. Tried to prepare his already strained soul to bear the words: it’s not you but me, sorry and goodbye. Draco thinks he would be able to hold it all together the ten minutes it would take for Potter to break it off officially.

And then he would cry. As he’d already done so many nights already.

And then he would pick himself up, move on, maybe save creatures all over the world, and then, in the end, he would die. His life didn’t sound very glamorous whenever Draco thought about it like that, watching the sun rise over whatever town he was currently hiding in. But at those moments, after nights of nightmares or heart-breaking thoughts, it was the truth.

***

“Draco?” Lupin looked teary eyed. “It’s been so long,” he then said.

Draco agreed. It certainly had. One year and a month to be completely honest. His former teacher took a hesitant step forward, arms twitching as if he wanted to wrap them around him.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Come here then?”

Lupin gave him a smile, so full of happiness that Draco couldn’t help but join. Not a second later did he have two strong but wiry arms wrapped around his slim frame. The familiar smell of old books and forest felt a bit like coming home, or at least as seeing an old friend. Which was technically what this was.

“We should have met earlier,” Lupin muttered into his hair, his embrace holding firm. Like he didn’t want to let go. “I should have visited you after everything… it was just… Sirius…”

“I understand,” Draco interrupted Lupin’s breathy voice. “Black almost died, MCE’s leader gone with the wind. Someone needed to take the rains.”

Lupin finally let up on his crushing embrace and took a good look at Draco, his eyes gleaming suspiciously. “Yes,” he nodded. “Look at you. Are you sure you’re only seventeen?”

“No,” Draco felt his smile turn to a smirk. “I am actually eighteen.”

Lupin’s smile faltered slightly. “Merlin, time really moves fast don’t it?”

Draco couldn’t do else than agree. “It does.”

Lupin let him go. The surroundings coming back to Draco as he turned towards the next person in line. Ah. Sirius Black.

“It’s an honour to meet you Elder,” Draco used the title as he addressed Black, bowing respectfully and keeping his eyes on the floor, as was the custom. If nothing else had this last year taught him a great deal about different creature norms.

“No,” Black said, his voice raspy and almost vibrating. Vibrating in the same way Potter’s had been. Apparently that was an Elder vampire trait, not that many people could claim to have met two. “The pleasure is entirely mine Draco Malfoy, please raise your gaze.”

Draco did. The man before him wasn’t thin as he’d been at the Hogwarts Standoff. He was pale like just vampire’s could be and his hair was dark. Maybe not like floating shadows but dark none the less. His eyes were grey and his expression sincere. There was power no doubt, authority and fangs. But Draco didn’t feel like prey, he didn’t feel insignificant or like he was standing in front of a god.

He felt slightly perplexed, furrowing his eyebrows in thought.

“I personally, but also on the behalf of MCE would like to thank you, Ms Granger and all that are part of the Promotion of Creature Right society. For doing what we couldn’t do,” Black’s voice was sincere.

Hermione shifted slightly beside Draco, her intake of breath betraying her happiness of being semi-officially acknowledged. After all, the minister was standing mere feet away, watching the Elder Vampire praise them, declare them his allies. That wasn’t a small thing.

“You have mine and the MCE’s eternal gratitude for the work you have and are doing. I hope we will continue to work together to bring equality all over the world. And if you ever find yourself in trouble, be it the PCR or personally, you always have an ally in me.”

The minister and Hermione both took a sharp breath. Surprise evident in the small sound.

Draco was still trying to figure out what felt off about this new Elder.

“Thank you,” Hermione sounded like an eager puppy.

Black’s professional mask melted away and he gave Hermione a friendly smile. “You’re welcome!”

Draco felt something. Like a switched had been flicked in his brain.

“Lupin,” he asked with ease, Hermione already going off on a tangent talking to Black and the minister.

“Oh, call me Remus,” Lupin- or… Remus, said with a fond smile.

“Right, Remus. Could I have a word?”

Remus’ smile dropped slightly, a frown appearing on his previously smooth forehead. They stepped to the side, standing by the warm fire and otherwise slightly shielded from the trio to their left.

Draco knew that Black could probably hear them without problems. But the idea inside of him wouldn’t let go. He needed his suspicions confirmed.

“Mr Black isn’t the new Elder is he?” Draco didn’t care for small talk. Remus was his friend and there was something like hysteria bubbling inside of him. “Potter is still the Elder Vampire isn’t it so?”

Remus looked at Draco, shocked no doubt. He didn’t seem to know what to say. “How… How…”

“I’ve spent too much time with Harry not to feel the difference between a god and an ordinary vampire.”

“Sirius isn’t ordinary.”

Draco nodded in agreement. He knew that Black had the ability to be outdoor in the sun, just like Potter had. “Yeah… maybe he’s more powerful than an ordinary vampire, but he’s not the Elder.”

Remus let out a long breath. He seemed concern. “You’re right of course,” he amended. “And yes Harry is out there, still being the Elder Vampire.”

“Where is he,” Draco’s heart was thumping loudly in his chest. A drumbeat that seemed to grow harsher by the minutes, he was almost sure that he would see his whole torso vibrate if he only bothered to look down. Which he didn’t, he was busy staring into amber coloured eyes filled of hesitation and pain.

“We don’t know,” Remus settled on, the chatter from the trio behind being the only thing calming Draco’s fraying nerves. Hermione talking meant that they still had some time before they undeniably were going to be interrupted. “He… he hasn’t really been in contact. Gone dark on the radar.”

Draco didn’t know what to feel about that. Apparently he wasn’t the only one the Elder Vampire had been avoiding.

Draco shook his head in frustration. “Damn,” he felt like crying. Stupid feelings, getting in the way all the fucking time.

Remus gave Draco a look of sympathy. “I’ve worried as well,” he confided.

Draco took a deep breath, trying to ignore how wet said breath sounded. “I’m not worried,” he bit out, forcing his voice to turn hard. “He would have stayed in contact if he wanted any further associations with me.”

Draco refused to look at Remus; instead he stared into the fire beside him. The crackling flames to prefer instead of amber eyes filled of pity.

“He… he wouldn’t stay away if he didn’t have a reason,” Remus voice was muted, careful.

Draco hated it. He wasn’t fragile. He wasn’t.

“Before the Standoff…” Draco wished he had some firewhisky to make this sharp reality duller. “I told him that he never again would decide for us.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“He did. So it’s obvious where his priorities lies.”

“You can’t know that Draco,” Remus protested softly. “You don’t know his reasons.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Remus remained quiet. Hermione was still chattering in the background, but it seemed like they were rounding up, words drifting by like “then it’s decided” and “Pleasure meeting you.” Draco would soon need to head back to whatever house he was to be located in now. Probably another cottage in another muggle town, somewhere away from wizards.

Not that he really could identify himself as a wizard anymore though. Maybe they should just leave him stranded somewhere north of London? But right… They still needed his voice.

“He will come for you,” Remus said despite Black and Hermione making their way over. Draco didn’t even have time to process as Remus engulfed him in another hug. “Harry will come for you.”

***

And Remus was right. Potter did come for him.

Two weeks later and in the middle of the night like another thief, did Potter come for him.

And Draco managed to fuck it up as usually.

***

There are thousands of thoughts Draco has had regarding their reunion, some of them overly romantic and hopeful, but most of them vengeful. Draco have thought about what to say, how to behave, how to make absolutely sure that Potter knows he’s leaving behind someone strong, someone that won’t miss him.

Now, Draco will miss him. As much as one might miss ones legs so will probably Draco miss the feeling of Potter looming beside him. But there’s no way that Potter will know that, ever. Instead Draco will act cold, indifferent, spit whatever closure Potter has planned in the face. Draco wants Potter to think about him now and forever, and if he can’t be thought of with love than maybe with sorrow and hate. He’s prepared to go so far just to be remembered. Because yeah… Draco is sometimes a selfish bastard, despite him behaving everything but nowadays.

So Draco wants to be indifferent, he wants to ignore, he wants to scream, he wants to curse and he wants to behave generally unpleasant when Harry shows up. There will be no forgiveness to be had, at least not any he will willing to give the vampire.

Not if he is to be left once again. Which he is. Every alternative path leading to something not-abandonment-ish are mere dreams. Ones he, for his own sanity, refuses to indulge in.

But that isn’t what happens.

***

Draco woke up in the middle of the night from another nightmare. This one had featured Blaise bleeding out at one of his speeches; red oozing out from his throat as Draco uselessly tried to stop the flow. He was panicking because he couldn’t lose Blaise. He just couldn’t.

He woke up to himself screaming in an empty bedroom. _His_ current empty bedroom to be precise. The moon was high in the sky outside the window but otherwise there was only darkness.

Draco sat up – his whole body shaking and sweating – and looked around the sparsely furnished room while he slowly but surely tried to return to himself. Draco knew how to deal with nightmares, he did. But this one had been worse than most because this one was plausible in ways the others weren’t. For starters, Blaise dying during one of his speeches had almost happened once. It had been in the beginning of this whole charade and Draco had almost stopped altogether right then and there. Almost.

Higher security had been installed after that and they’d become more cautious. But still, it could happen again.

Only… Draco paused in thoughts as he felt a shivering sensation of something… The dark room around him seemed darker somewhat.

Draco felt himself tense as he stared around the room, nightmare fresh in his mind.

_Blaise dying. Him dying._ It could happen _._

And not only during the speeches.

Someone was in the room.

“Hello,” he asked quietly into the supposedly empty room, wondering if he could get hold of his Throw n Trap beside the bed. Maybe his movement would be obvious to whatever presence in the room, but at least it would be better than sitting on his bed defenceless.

He made a move. The shadows seemed to grow thicker. Draco froze.

“Show yourself,” he demanded, whishing for maybe the gazillionth time that he had a working wand to his disposal. Blaise was sleeping downstairs, if only he dared to scream… but no, that needed to be his last option, it was too risky.

Stay cool and collected Draco. Stay cool and fucking collected.

“You who are here, step forth,” he demanded once more, body tense. There was a chill creeping up his back, but somehow the gut wrecking fear felt almost… familiar.

Familiar?

It couldn’t possible be…

“Draco.”

_Him_.

Now, Draco knew how to act, he had fucking practised the entire charade.

So why didn’t he stick to the fucking script???

“Harry,” he said instead of ignoring the pale shape emerging from the shadows.

He’s supposed to tell the entity to get the fuck out of his house. He doesn’t. Obviously. He doesn’t even stick to impersonally calling the vampire Potter. Merlin help him, he has already lost his goddamn mind.

“Harry,” he said again, because for some reason, Draco’s practice of behaving distant had been for naught.

Harry stepped forward. And it was such a goddamn nice sight to see. The familiar attributes and shapes of Harry were making his head spin and let out a whimper. Harry was still slightly taller than him, he was still broad and muscular, and he was still the most breath-taking sight Draco had ever seen despite the betrayal and their history.

Harry looked at him and Draco felt something like a physical longing making his limbs move despite what they’d practised. He was getting out of his bed, walking up towards that firm chest hiding underneath a dark sweater. He was still walking towards that face with the green eyes, bronze-white skin, straight nose and deadly fangs.

He’d missed Harry. Merlin, he’d missed him.

Harry simply opened his arms and Draco, like a fool in love, fell into the cool embrace, body shaking and heart leaping of joy. During this whole year after Harry had left, he’d never felt so happy, so alive, and so whole, as he did now.

“Draco,” Harry whispered with his dark voice, a familiar rumble making his smaller frame vibrate. He was not crying, there was too much adrenaline rushing through his veins for that.

“Harry,” was the only goddamn thing he managed to respond with, his sharp Malfoy tongue seemingly buried somewhere in the unknown. He could really have had some use for a sharp word or two right now, some solid arguments. But alas. He was instead melting in Harry’s arms.

And then there was sudden desperation.

“Don’t leave,” he begged and clung to Harry like a stubborn cat, his hands clawing into firm muscles and his chest moulding itself after Harry’s. “Don’t leave me behind again. You said you wouldn’t. You promised.”

“I won’t,” Harry whispered, lips moving against Draco’s scalp. “Never again.”

Draco’s heart didn’t hear promises, just false reassurance.

Draco’s hands started to grab Harry harder. His body moving against the vampire’s in sinuous waves as he bent his head backwards, offering his throat in desperation. Because this was nothing else _but_ desperation.

“Need you,” he managed to get out despite something in his gut screaming wrong, wrong, WRONG! He didn’t care. He should, he desperately _should_ , but didn’t. All he thought about was that he’d been deprived of Harry for one year and Merlin it had been too long. He just needed to feel something else than air and memories.

Because Harry was here.

And instead of thinking about goodbyes Draco started to think about beginnings. Foolish beginnings. This would surely turn ugly in a minute, when Harry realised what his fumbling hands and moving body wanted. Or maybe it would turn ugly in the morning as it had before? But would Draco manage to move past it this time? He already was so bloody stressed and tired. All. The. Time.

“Draco,” Harry was sounding hesitant. “Draco.” Large, sure hands settled on his hips. He couldn’t help that his body positively arched at the familiar weight. “We shouldn’t rush. You’re tired, confused.”

Draco started mouthing at Harry’s jaw. It was after all a very nice jaw. All square like and sharp. “No,” he panted between sloppy kisses. Harry’s skin tasted positively divine, like moonlight – if one could taste that way. “I need you now.” His mouth then reattached itself to pale skin, hungry for another taste.

Draco did need Harry. He did. If there was one thing overshadowing all other thoughts was that he needed Harry. Needed to feel that he was here, that this wasn’t another horrible dream he would wake from with an aching heart.

Harry’s voice was trembling, the sub-vocal rumbling almost gone. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Draco dragged his mouth away from Harry’s quite addictive skin once more. And instead of saying that Harry had been the cause for indescribable pain so many times that Draco had lost count, he just breathed out a: “Then kiss me.”

The familiar softness took Draco’s breath away. He immediately tried to deepen the kiss, his warm tongue silently asking entrance to the cave of fangs and coolness. But Harry’s mouth remained stubbornly closed.

Draco groaned in frustration.

“I said kiss me!”

“I am!”

“You. Are. Not!”

Harry dragged himself away from Draco. Draco simply tired to press himself even closer, hands possessively grabbing for anything.

“No Draco.” It looked like it physically pained him to say the words. “You’ll hate me in the morning. Just let me stay and we’ll talk about it.”

_Let me stay_.

Yeah, like Harry would stay. He’d never had before.

“Harry,” Draco’s voice did that breathy but firm thing again. His thoughts were flying around, all of them out of grasp, like a thousands of golden snitches. All he knew was that Harry was here. And he would probably not be for much longer. “I _need_ you.”

Harry looked at him. Something sad in his green eyes. “I _need_ you too,” he said. “But it’s better to talk firs-”

“I don’t want to talk.”

Because that would be the part when Harry said goodbye and sorry wouldn’t it?

Harry stared at him for a long moment. Draco tried to stay upright, happy to have two strong hands placed on his hips. They gave him strength, stability. They made sense. And Merlin knew nothing else did at the moment.

Something seemed to leave Harry. Like a breath or maybe something heavier. Or maybe something lighter.

The vampire nodded, his clothes wrinkled after Draco’s attack and his eyes hungry but sad.

“Okay. Whatever you want Draco. Whatever you want.”

It was like a switch had lit in both Draco’s mind, but also in Harry’s. Suddenly Draco was once against crushed against a firm chest, his hands scrambling over stupid cloth as he tried to find a strip of skin, a strip of coolness. His mouth found Harry’s and this time it was no hesitation.

The moan he let out was unashamed and loud. Maybe Blaise would here it, but his friend was a distant thought.

Harry’s mouth opened beneath his asking lips and Draco delved in with uninhibited pleasure. Meeting the tongue greeting him with eager whimpers and shaking limbs. This… this was like coming home. Or maybe arriving to heaven once again.

There were fangs Draco couldn’t help but trace while his hands clutching dark locks. Harry picked him up from the floor, guiding Draco’s legs to wrap around his hips while supporting him with two broad hands on his arse. It made something burn inside of Draco.

He began to move against Harry, continuing grabbing his hair with shaking hands as he took full advantage of his new height. Slanting his mouth harder against Harry’s while allowing his right hand to cup the vampire’s face, tracing familiar features with an aching heart.

This was Harry.

Harry.

Harry.

_Harry._

How could he have lived without this for a year? It didn’t make any sense. He would take what he could get if nothing else. Take these memories to relive them during grey days of loneliness and pain.

Harry started kneading his arse, broad hands moving the two globs together and apart. It was maddening.

“The bed,” Draco got out between long, sinful kisses. “Take me to bed.”

Not a second after Draco had whimpered the words was he falling on a soft mattress. His body weightless for an exhilarating moment before something cool and solid pressed him down. A mouth attaching itself to his neck as Harry began leaving wet kisses in his wake. Draco burned underneath the cool entity.

“Clothes,” he instructed between moans and whines. “Take them off.”

Harry barely bothered to rise to his knees as he dragged off his sweatshirt, his skin positively luminous in the moonlight. So very fitting, Draco couldn’t help but think. Moonlight skin, lit up by the moon herself.

Then Harry was leaning down, tangling with Draco’s nightshirt. Draco felt anticipation build in his lower abdominal. He would have all that pressed against him, pressed inside him. He wanted Harry to hurry up, get him out of these annoying clothes.

If he could only-

_Ouch_!

Harry stopped and right, Draco might have said that out loud.

“What?” Harry sounded apologetic and a bit frightened in his question.

Draco bent to the right and swiftly pulled out the needle from his arm. “Don’t mind it, I’ll survive without being drained for a while.”

Harry resumed to slowly pull off Draco’s nightshirt, face hidden by the white material. It went off.

But then he stopped.

Draco looked up at the beautiful man before him, perfection in every curve and nook. Harry’s expression on the other hand… was devastated.

He traced a cold, but smooth, finger along the edge of Draco’s scar from the sword, the pink line right above his sternum. Harry’s expression turned haunted.

“Draco I-”

“No,” Draco said because _no_. They would not talk. He didn’t have the mind capacity to talk right now. He just wanted this. _Craved_ this. “Come here.” It was nothing short of an order.

Harry obeyed, swooping down to leave a series of light kisses on his scar. Draco started pulling Harry’s hair, guiding him away from the gentle flutter. He didn’t want that. He wanted heat and friction.

“Take your trousers and pants off.”

Harry looked at Draco with big eyes, but Draco avoided that imploring gaze. Instead he started mouthing at Harry’s jaw again, body pressing upwards and back curving. He had nothing left on but his pants. But they would soon be gone.

Harry managed to get all remaining clothes away, Draco’s too. And then it was simply skin. Skin and coolness and Harry, Harry, _Harry_.

Draco let out more whimpers as his hips desperately moved against the vampires, cocks brushing and hands grasping desperately.

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” Draco whined, eyes closing because he wanted to just feel. Not that he couldn’t _just feel_. Not when his heart was pounding like crazy of both joy and crushing sadness and his voice kept repeating the name Harry.

The vampire’s breath was cool by his ear. The bed creaked with every thrust they did against each other.

“Draco,” Harry answered him, voice filled of things Draco couldn’t deal with right now. Perhaps never. “Draco,” Harry begged again but Draco didn’t want to. He didn’t want to make this more than it was. More than a goodbye.

He clawed at Harry’s back, trying to force the vampire’s torso flush against his chest. He didn’t succeed.

“Look at me,” Harry asked as his hips kept twitching against Draco’s. Creating the most delirious of frictions. “Please… Look at me.”

“No,” Draco tried to speed up the thrusts. Tried to loose himself in the pleasure blooming all over him, loose himself in Harry’s perfect, unattainable body.

“Draco.”

“I said no!”

And of course… then Draco looked at him.

Green eyes were staring into his, Harry’s gaze heavy of sorrow and _love_.

Yes, love. There was no denying it. And how was Draco supposed to handle this?

“That’s it Draco you’re doing so well,” Harry whispered as he shoved against Draco harder, faster, his expression reverent. “You’re the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.”

And Draco… he’s not… he’s not… He thought they were supposed to have sex. Not… not this.

“I’m going to take care of you,” Harry continued, hands cupping Draco’s face. “For as long as you let me.” Then he kissed Draco.

And Draco… Draco… Draco was breaking.

And he… he… was coming.

His sight turned to white, his mind even whiter and he was suddenly stuck in this space where there was nothing but him and a moon. A moon who had glowing skin, a loving gaze and dark hair. A moon who smiled at him and whispered sweet poems into his skin. A moon that loved him.

That Draco loved as well and has for a long time.

The journey back to his small bed in a strange house was fast and hard. Harry was there of course and caught him with cool hands and soft lips.

“Draco, Draco, Draco,” he whispered like a pray. His hands moving over his exhausted body like his scarred torso was worth worshiping. Draco was exhausted, tired.

Harry hadn’t come, Draco could tell.

But Harry didn’t seem to mind as he carefully dragged Draco into an embrace, holding the blonde slytherin in his arms while continuously whispering gibberish. Lovely gibberish mind you, but gibberish none the less.

“I’ll stay,” Harry whispered while stroking Draco’s side like one might a cat. “You just sleep and I’ll stay here. You don’t need to worry anymore. I’ll guard you for the rest of my life.”

Draco’s thoughts were sluggish at best, but he thought these words were settling something inside of him, like maybe calming an ever-raging storm. He curled into Harry, back pressing against the vampire’s chest and his limbs spread out in front of him. Harry dragged up the cover of the bed, engulfing Draco in a cocoon of hot and cool. It was quite the pleasant thunderstorm inside of there.

He drifted off to Harry breathing behind him. The vampire’s presence soothing in the most fundamental of ways.

“Sleep,” Harry whispered. “Tomorrow, you can curse me all you want.”

***

Draco awoke to the sun. His head was clearer than it had been for a long time and his limbs were pleasantly cool. He thanked Merlin for the lack of nightmares and insomnia but then…. he remembered.

There was someone in his bed. There was a cool hand resting on Draco’s waist, stroking carefully to and fro.

Harry.

The vampire was awake. Draco wasn’t even sure if the entity needed to sleep at all. Because when Draco tensed, just seconds after realising just who laid in his bed, Harry lifted his hand, taking away the physical contact, like he knew Draco wouldn’t want to touch him.

_I don’t think I want you to touch me_. The memory echoed inside of Draco. It had been over a year ago. When he’d been able to actually turn away from the vampire.

He remembered last night in flashes. Harry whispering soothing, loving words to him. Draco behaving wanton, easy, in a way that was making his inner cry out in shame. His hands started to shake badly as he tried and failed to deny what his reaction had been when seeing Harry for the first time in over a year.

Couldn’t he at least have behaved with dignity?

Now in the morning sun he doubted he even had any left.

“Draco?” Harry’s voice was careful, the sound rather a whisper in the wind than an actual word.

Draco didn’t know how to face Harry. He didn’t.

“Please Draco, look at me?”

Draco still refused, remaining with his back turned against the entity. But instead of insisting, Harry was respecting his silence by joining it. Allowing the room to turn quiet with the exception of slow breaths and the furious thumping of Draco’s heart. Because Draco’s heart was beating. Like mad.

There wasn’t an easy silence they fell into. They were both tense and Draco’s breath was coming out quicker and quicker as he remembered how Harry had asked him to stop, to wait yesterday and how Draco had pressed on. Forced-

Not forced…. Not, forced. Because how could you force someone that was so powerful he could end the world in a heartbeat?

Maybe you could pressure him? And if that wasn’t a new low Draco didn’t know what was.

“Last night wasn’t suppose to happen,” Draco said after a while. Because his heart was about to beat out of his chest and his head was about to explode. Draco needed to talk; otherwise he might just break down.

Harry was quiet behind him. The only sound the vampire let out being a small wounded noise that could be anything from “go on” to “I’m sorry.”

Draco breathed in air. Cool air. His head was still a mess, but maybe he could begin to sort it out? “You were supposed to come here,” he continued, trying to follow the setup he’d practised on. Trying to follow his planned script until he found what exactly had made it all turn to shite.

Harry lied still behind him, almost as if he wasn’t there. But he was.

“You were supposed to climb through my window to get closure. To say goodbye.”

“Draco,” Harry’s voice didn’t sound very confident. Actually, it sounded small.

“You were.” Draco ignored Harry’s pleading? Inquiring? “And I was supposed to ignore you. I was supposed to tell you to go to away for being such a goddamn filthy traitor and liar.”

There was a cool hand softly touching his elbow. Draco jerked away from the touch, violently. “I wasn’t supposed to swoon,” he spit the words out, feeling truly disgusted with himself. He wanted to take a shower desperately, but he wasn’t sure if water could wash away whatever loathing that was growing in his chest.

“You didn’t,” Harry tried to protest, hands once more trying to pet him, sooth him.

Draco hated it. Hated how his body even now tried to lean into those broad palms. “Don’t touch me!”

The hands were immediately retreating. Leaving him the fuck alone.

Draco felt tired.

“Why did you do that,” Draco asked with a broken voice? He had practised to hold in his tears as well, tried to get used to the thought of facing Harry once more. Whatever thought simulation he’d forced himself to endure beforehand didn’t seem to work. It hadn’t worked yesterday and it wouldn’t today.

There were tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

“I wanted to talk Draco,” Harry answered, hesitantly.

Draco let out something between a laugh and a sob, it sounded ugly. “Yeah, but then I begged for it didn’t I?”

“No,” Harry sounded small, sad. “You didn’t at all.”

“Please,” Draco’s voice sounded harsh in the soft glow of the morning. “We both know that’s a lie.”

“It isn’t. But I- I just came barging in, surprising you. And it’s been a long time since last. And- and, we love each other. Of course your reaction would be-”

“No, no, no, no. Can you just shut up!?” Draco didn’t care that he behaved childish as he pressed his hands to his ears, trying to shut out the raspy sound of Harry’s voice. The vampire didn’t get to say that. He just didn’t.

Draco closed his eyes, heart still beating fast. He lowered his hands slowly. There was a needle in his arm again, he noticed with a flickering of something. Harry must have put it back after he’d fallen asleep.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have come,” Draco was calm again. Or at least _calmer_.

“Of course I would come again.”

“To say a proper goodbye?”

“No,” Harry sounded so fucking small, and that was not okay. It messed with Draco’s determination. It made him want to hug the vampire close to him and whisper ‘ _whatever you want, I’ll give it’_.

“No?” Draco couldn’t have stopped himself from asking the question just as little that he could have stopped his heart from beating or his blood from reproducing.

“I came here to be with you. And I will if you let me.”

Draco opened his eyes, the words ringing in his head like a sinister echo. Those words were like poisonous amortentia, smelling like everything he’d ever wished for but tasting like death.

“Your promises are empty Harry,” was all Draco managed as he stared at the wall before him the room, the white wall glowing slightly golden as the sunbeams travelled through the window.

Harry paused before he answered, his voice full of intention, of determination. “Draco… I’m so fucking sorry okay? For everything.”

These words were so predictable and plain. So why did they make Draco’s heart feel like it was soaring? Stupid heart, stupid mind, stupid body who didn’t know how not to long after a cool touch.

“I’d died for you,” Draco simply said. “And you promised… and I did a promise to myself as well…” He felt helpless as he lay in the sheets, Harry right behind him. “We made a deal that if _we_ were to work you wouldn’t decide for both of us. You didn’t get to make decisions based on your opinion alone.”

“Please Draco. I want to explain to you, I really do. But can’t you at least look at me? Can’t you give me that?”

Draco shuddered, because he wanted to. Merlin, he wanted to.

“I can’t. I need some distance. It’s… it’s… My self-respect is really low right now. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to live with myself if I look at you and forgives you.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me-”

“Well I fucking will anyway okay?!” Draco’s word rang out into the room. He felt jittery, broken. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling.

“Okay,” Harry sounded sad. Like watching-your-loved-ones-be-buried sad.

Draco took a deep breath. “It’s just,” he tried to amend, tried to say in a calm fucking manner. “It’s just that maybe I do love you. And maybe _that_ is making me trust you despite that you’ve done very few things to deserve it. And that’s not okay. I’m sorry Harry but it’s not.”

Harry might have nodded. Draco didn’t know because he wasn’t looking. He just… wasn’t.

“I don’t know where you’ve been,” he continued. “I know that the world thinks you are dead. I know that I waited for you during the two months I was hospitalized to come to me. I know that you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t,” Harry chimed in, his voice thick. Like he was crying. Merlin, don’t let him be crying. “I had to make sure to hunt down Tom Riddle.”

Draco took a quick breath. “They said he’d died…”

“He hadn’t.”

“Is he…?” He didn’t even know how to finish the question.

“No. But he’s imprisoned.”

Draco let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “Azkaban?”

“No… Not in Britain.”

“Is he…? Never mind, as long as he’s gone-”

“He is.”

There was a hand on Draco’s back, stroking softly. Draco allowed it. Actually, he melted backwards into the coolness, shuddering. And when another arm came to press over his side and curl around his stomach, he allowed that to.

“Draco,” Harry’s breath danced over his neck. “Even if you never forgive me, even if you only want me around as another bodyguard or a friend, let me stay. I won’t leave you ever again without telling you.”

“You… you should have told me about Riddle,” Draco was close to breaking, turning around to grab hold of Harry and kiss him, beg him to stay forever. It was so tempting, dangerously so. Like past mistakes were made to be repeated.

“I wasn’t sure,” Harry whispered. “If I would survive. I didn’t want you to… to give you false hope.”

“But that’s not your decision to make,” Draco reminded him even as he turned around.

And there he was, Harry, eyes gleaming suspiciously and expression somewhere between broken and blissful. He was perfect. Always would be.

“I know,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to Draco’s forehead. “And I won’t do it again.”

“You must tell me everything,” Draco insisted as he himself pressed a small kiss to the corner of Harry’s lovely mouth. “About you. How you grew up, how you became the Elder Vampire. You must tell me about Remus, Black, Ginny and about how you came up with such a reckless idea as to change the world.”

Harry smiled softly at him, a fang sticking out. “If you tell me about you.”

Draco felt an answering smile spread over his face. It felt wonderful, like the first sign of spring after a long, long winter. “I can do that.”

Harry’s eyes were tender as his hand closed over Draco’s wrist, the one with the needle in. “I heard you turned into a blood bag,” he said gently.

“I did,” Draco shot right back, a tingle going down his spine. “Are you in need of a donation?”

Harry pressed a kiss to his lips. “Maybe I am…. maybe I _am_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all you who’s still with me! This was the last chapter of Blood Bag, I hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> What to say really? I can begin with saying that I never (ever) planned for this story to become over 100 000 words (like wtf is wrong with me). This is the first time I’ve written such a long story, something I’m sure is noticeable with contradictions and uneven pacing. 
> 
> This story also didn’t turn out as I’d envisioned it from the beginning. This was actually suppose to be a 20 000 word story where nobody were suppose to be dying. This story got away from me and turned much more darker than I’d first envisioned. 
> 
> Several reviews I’ve gotten have mentioned that this story is a long on-and-off war between Draco and Harry’s relationship and yes… I guess it turned out that way x) 
> 
> But however flaws, I as an author still love it. Mainly because I can clearly see a difference from when I started this story two years ago to now. I feel like I’ve evolved working on such a large project both with my story constructing and writing. 
> 
> Last of all (is this a thank speech?? Have I won an award x) jeez!) I would like to thank you! It’s frightfully clear to me that I wouldn’t under any circumstances have managed to finish this monster of a story if it wasn’t for all of you. Reviews, likes, view count, whatever you have done thank you. No matter if you have cheered me on, given me constructive criticism or simply taken part of this story… thank you!
> 
> I hope that with this last chapter, many of you can finally find peace and that you may find it in yourselves to forgive me for the all but reliable updating schedule. :) 
> 
> Truly, Thank you!
> 
>  
> 
> But since it has so ought to be  
> By a time to rise and a time to fall  
> Come fill to me the parting glass  
> Good night and joy be with you all


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